


That Merry Wanderer of the Night

by rivlee



Series: Journeys 'Verse [2]
Category: Band of Brothers, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3405284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babe Heffron's own personal journey down the magical rabbit hole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amorekay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorekay/gifts).



> This follows directly from So Spoke the Wanderer. There is a Spartacus fandom fic set in the same 'verse and some of those characters will appear here, though you do not need to read that fic to understand this one.
> 
> I'm still working on the final chapters of this fic. However, since it's been years and I have the first three full chapters ready to go, and the majority of the rest of the fic written, I decided to start posting it. I plan on doing a chapter a week until it's done.

“Too late to turn back?” he asked.

“Never,” Haldane said, sounding choked up.

“Are you crying?” Leckie asked.

“No,” Haldane insisted.

Leckie laughed. “Oh, Haldane, I didn’t think you’d—”

His words were cut off by a whooshing sound from the Void.

A young man dropped through, coughing like he’d just taken his first bong hit, and cursing a blue streak. Leckie recognized the accent, unmistakable South Philadelphian.

There was a sound like a bomb going off and the Void closed.

“You really need to work on guarding those borders,” he bitched at Haldane.

Haldane shrugged and walked over to the young man. He held out his hand. “Welcome, Wanderer.”

The boy gave him the finger.

Leckie liked him already.

\-- _So Spoke the Wanderer_ , Chapter Five


	2. One

Babe Heffron was raised to respect the spirit world and the general immaterial of the great beyond. He came from a childhood full of family legacies and religious imagery. His great-grandma hailed from some small corner of Ireland and until the day she died she threatened to sell him off to the Fair Folk if he kept getting mouthy about eating his green beans. Babe never saw the need to deny the existence of ghosts, gods, or something else entirely. He was open to the possibilities of other life forms out there, as any kid who wanted to be one of the _X-Men_ probably remained in their heart of hearts, but even superhero mutants somehow seemed more probable than the utter fantastical bullshit currently surrounding him.

Apparently the Pennsylvanian countryside had hidden portals to a magical world full of gnomes, elves, and enough creatures to fill a whole wing of the Disney vault. He’d arrived by magical express delivery last night. It’d only been the talking bright flame who formed a hand and hit him this afternoon that convinced he wasn’t still sleeping or tripping balls or in a twisted version of purgatory. Even if he was in purgatory, at least his host was a nice guy.

Babe currently sat in a comfortable but worn armchair, wrapped up in a friggin’ _magical cloak_ , in a house that could only be described as a hobbit hole, as a whole group of people—creatures?—talked over and about him. 

“Please, God, let this be whiskey,” Babe said as he took a sip of the drink his host, some guy named Eugene, had pressed into his hands. It had a tangy taste instead of sharp liquor. Tea maybe, but Christ only knew. Considering his luck it was probably a magical potion. He drank it anyway.

“It’s tea,” Eugene said as he sat down across from Babe. He had hair as red as Babe’s own, a brittle smile on his lips, and a young face with old eyes. “Usually at this point, we give you the whole _Welcome, Wanderer_ speech and send you to a decontamination unit.”

“But?” Babe asked.

“Prince Aindrea says you’re clean.”

“Prince?” Babe asked. He just _would_ be recused by a friggin’ prince. There would be no living this one down. Bill was going to kill him when he found out. He could already hear the garbled Guarnere version of _Someday My Prince Will Come_.

Babe put his cup down and rubbed his temples. There was a headache forming behind his right eyeball and the mystical tea wasn’t stopping it.

“Prince Aindrea found you in the woods. He’s the man whose eyes glowed, not the curly-haired one,” Eugene clarified.

Babe nodded and tried to calm his racing heart as he thought about the mess he’d gotten himself into this time. He was royally screwed now, all on his lonesome, with no Bill to pull his ass out of the fire. Fuck, Bill really _was_ going to kill him this time. And then his Ma would get her hits in, until finally _Bill_ ’s mom would take her shots. He grimaced just imagining the beating his ass would get when he got back home.

 _If_ he got back home. He wasn’t sure how this magical portal thing worked. They never covered that in high school.

“Hey, how come I can understand you?” he asked instead of the other twelve thousand questions floating around his head. 

Last night he’d mostly stumbled through various versions of _how_ and _why_. Better to start simple today and all that. Besides, he needed to know if his head was about to go full-on _Scanners_ explosion style. 

“Unless this is actually a dream. Which—yeah, that would make sense.”

Eugene shook his head. “No dream.” He clasped his hands together, long pale fingers plain except for a single small gold ring with a black stone in the middle. “We’re not quite sure why you’ve arrived with the knowledge already there, Mr. Heffron.”

“Well ain’t I special,” Babe muttered. 

“Not so much,” the curly-haired guy from earlier said. His face held a crooked smirk as he leaned over Eugene’s chair. “A year ago, I was you. Don’t know how I got here either. Don’t worry; everything’s going to be fine.”

From the way Eugene immediately covered his face, Babe knew that was the first of many big fucking fibs he’d hear.

The two other men in the room, one tall and smiling, the other short and flipping through a worn paperback, both laughed silently as they listened.

“Professor Leckie’s about to start his lecture,” the short one said.

“He does like the sound of his own voice,” the taller one agreed.

The curly-haired man ignored them as he continued to violate Babe’s personal space cushion.

“Welcome to the Other Side, Faerie, or as I prefer to call it the Actual Most Magical Place on Earth,” he said as he held out his hand. “I’m Bob Leckie. We didn’t get a chance for proper introductions last night.”

“’Sup,” Babe said as he shook his hand. He looked at the glowing purple tree leaves outside. “We’re still on earth?”

“Or something like it,” Leckie said. He let go of Babe’s hand and walked to the center of the room, as if about to take the stage for a soliloquy. “We sure as hell ain’t in Kansas anymore, or Philadelphia, obviously.”

Babe felt his jaw clench at that asshole smile on Leckie’s face. He straightened up and took the cloak off his shoulders, folding it all nice and proper before placing it next to Eugene’s hands. Babe didn’t want to be a rude and get blood on it if some fists were about to be required. He didn’t mind attitude from his boys, but anyone who implied he was stupid usually didn’t make that same mistake twice.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw and looked out the window again. “Really? That ain’t Philly out there? No shit.”

“Oh, he can definitely stay,” a new voice drawled.

Babe turned away from to see a whole group of people crowded in the doorway of Eugene’s study. 

“Another stray to add to the house. Aindrea, what have I told you?”

“When the world gives me lost folks, would you have me send them adrift, Eideard?”

“Someone has to feed the dragons,” apparently Eideard with an earcuff said.

Babe squinted his eyes as his head swam. There were too many new faces and voices. Some had eyes that glowed bright, others wide and dark. Some wore ear cuffs, others cloaks, and none appeared completely human. There was something off in each of the new arrivals, something distinctly not normal. Eugene and Leckie? They were like Babe. These new folks and the two guys using Eugene’s home as a lounge? All of ‘em felt different. 

“So, let me guess,” He pointed to blue eyes. “You’re Prince Charming, so that makes ear-cuff Mr. Charming? Who are the other two? Your adopted kids? Or are Flora and Fauna standing alone there because Merryweather took the day off?”

Mr. Charming shook his head. “Wanderers,” he muttered.

Prince Charming introduced himself first. “I am Aindrea Haldane, though most Wanderers call me either Andy or Haldane.”

“And Your Royal Highness,” Babe said.

Haldane shrugged. “You’re not my subject, just my ward while here. Mr. Charming is my husband Eideard, though Leckie and his ilk call him Eddie. Flora is named Merriell and Fauna is Hoosier.”

“He’s only been half a deer once,” Leckie explained.

Hoosier mouthed a quick _fuck you_ to Leckie. 

“I see Eugene and Robert here have explained some of the most pertinent facts about this land. Have Lew and Bill offered any other information?”

“Chuckler and Runner have both been curiously silent,” Leckie said.

“There’s only so much air in this room, Leckie. We thought we’d save ourselves and let you use it,” the short one said.

“Fuck you, Runner,” Leckie said.

“Children,” Eddie muttered. He gestured to the back garden. “Let’s take it outside boys. Give Aindrea a chance to explain.”

“We’ll be good, won’t we, Chuckler?” Runner asked.

“Of course,” Chuckler agreed. “I want to see Haldane do his speech. It’s a great welcoming speech.”

“Ignore them,” Haldane said. He gripped Babe’s shoulder and Babe felt an instant calm wash over him. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Babe said.

“Good,” Haldane said. “Now for some better explanations. We exist on the other side of a Veil, a magical partition of sorts, that separates our world from your own. There are those who fall through these portals. Your people who come to this side are called Wanderers.”

“And what about your folks who are now walking down my main street?” Babe asked.

“They are called Wayfarers,” Haldane said. 

“Well isn’t that just perfectly fucking quaint,” Babe said. 

The man called Hoosier made an amused face. “Webster won’t approve of that language.”

Leckie draped an arm around Hoosier’s shoulder. “Webster can go fuck himself.”

Maybe Leckie wasn’t so bad after all.

Merriell rubbed his hands together. “I think it’s past time for his examination.”

Leckie winked at Babe. “Don’t worry, no one’s going to ask you to drop your pants, turn your head and cough. They’re just going to put some magical lice on you.”

On second thought, Leckie could go fuck himself.

“They’re really quite nice young men once you get to know them,” Haldane promised.

“Yeah,” Babe said. “I’m sure they grow on you like a fungus.”

“I always thought of them like barnacles,” Eideard said. 

**********************

One confusing night had led into two confusing weeks, and Babe found himself in increasingly detailed conversations with everyone ranging from His Royal Haldane to an actual Minotaur. Apparently since the circumstances of Leckie’s crossover were still somewhere beyond a whiter shade of pale, Babe’s every movement before his own tumble down the rabbit hole was being documented. Some group called the Realm Jumpers (and didn’t that just sound like Marvel’s next group of superheroes?) were concerned that a disturbing trend was starting to emerge. Babe really hoped it wasn’t some glitch in the Matrix, because he was no one’s Neo. 

“Can you please run us through the events leading up to your arrival?” Haldane asked. 

Babe’s eyes drifted to the unknown person lounging on Haldane’s official Watch Keeper’s desk. He had a face that looked deceptively young to go with his whole adopted nonchalance. Babe wasn’t buying it for a second; he learned ages ago to recognize an undercover cop and this guy was definitely more than some _wizard_ , or _reader of the last thought_ , or a _siren_. 

“Who’s the suit?” Babe asked.

Haldane frowned. “Suit?” 

“Yeah, Mr. Casual back there.” Babe leaned to the side to look past Haldane and addressed the stranger. “How long did it take you to get your hair like that? Do you have a handbook that tells you that x amount of fuss will make it look like you don’t care and endear yourself to the little punk in the office chair? Or do you always walk around like hairbrushes offend your very existence?”

“Kiddo, why don’t you answer the prince’s question, and then we’ll see if you get to meet me. I’d rather not waste my time on another Leckie.”

Babe shrugged. “Hey, man, it’s your dime. Anyway, like I’ve said at least five times before, I was working security on some stables on the Main Line.” He rolled his eyes at the blank faces he got in response. “In Bryn Mawr,” he expanded. Still nothing from the two men—creatures—gathered around him. “A bunch of rich people with too much money who hire assholes like me because I look trustworthy enough to guard the property, but I’m still not good enough to drag my blue-collar shoes inside their mansion doors.”

“I’m sensing some resentment there,” Haldane said.

“Class warfare is never-ending,” Babe agreed. He ran a hand over his face. “Look, I just sneaked out past the stables to have a quick smoke. I don’t do it often, but being around people like that always frazzles my nerves. I dropped my lighter on the ground and bent down to look for it and the next thing I know I was here.”

Haldane’s face didn’t give anything away as he turned to Mr. Casual. “Well, Sisk?”

Sisk swaggered over to them and narrowed his eyes. He walked a circle around Babe before leaning close to sniff at him.

“Usually I make a guy buy me a drink first,” Babe said.

Sisk smirked. “I already think you’re more trouble than you’re worth.” He cocked his head to the side. “Do you remember anything on the ground? Shimmering lights or something?”

“No,” Babe said. “No _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_ or any shit like that, Mulder.” 

Sisk gave the top of Babe’s head a pointed look. “You’re clearly Scully here. Look, considering you were in or near the woods, we think it’s possible you stumbled through one of the portal spots. They’re usually marked by a circle of stones or mushrooms. Leckie says your people call them fairy rings.”

“Nana always told me to avoid mushrooms. It was either that or Will O’ Wisps or strange birds. Though she also said sometimes Fate finds you, whether you like it or not.” Babe smiled as he thought of her old, wrinkled hands pinching his cheeks. “She was the suspicious kind just like her mother. Never failed to throw spilt salt over her shoulder and always knocked on wood.” 

“Maybe you should’ve listened to her,” Sisk said.

Babe laughed to himself. “Maybe so. Though it could be my good fortune that got me here, you never know.”

“You were fully awake for the whole process though,” Sisk said. “You didn’t see any large portal of pulsing light or hear something out of place?”

Babe thought of that night and shook his head. “Only your typical forest sounds. There were owls hooting and it was a little colder than usual. All I know is it was over in a flash. One second I was crouched down looking for my lighter and the next I was on my knees here feeling like someone had gut punched me.” He gestured between Haldane and Sisk. “How is that not normal?”

“Because fairy rings and their like should only transport people who know how to open the portals,” Haldane said. “You got dropped through the closest Veil point because you only opened one side of passage. It’s a failsafe so living people don’t get caught between the Veils.”

“Living people?” Babe asked. “Living as opposed to dead people.”

“Ghosts, Oracles, and their ilk,” Sisk said. “They don’t hold a corporeal form and exist between the various worlds.”

“That’s nice,” Babe said. “I forgot about the ghosts. Leckie wasn’t just joking about that then?”

“He’s an asshole,” Sisk said. “He just happens to be a truthful asshole this time.” He sat down next to Babe. “Headaches?”

Babe nodded. “Yeah. Not a surprise, I guess.”

“The fact that you only have headaches is the surprise,” Sisk said. “We didn’t have to send you to a decontamination unit or implant the translator spell under your skin.” He leaned closer. “Your eyes aren’t bothering you?”

“They’re a little dry,” Babe said. “I figured it’s just allergies.”

Sisk and Haldane exchanged another look. “Just stay away from the ivy,” Sisk said. He stood and patted Babe’s shoulder. “I’m going to ask you for a favor, kid. Stay within the walls of Merrymec until I can get one of my friends here to look you over. He’ll perform a more thorough examination so we can get the all clear to let you travel.”

“Sure,” Babe said. “I don’t know shit about where we are, and I got food and shelter here. No need to go running off into the sunset for me.” He played with a loose thread on the worn hoodie Eugene gave him to wear. “Just um…do we have a possible timeline about when I can get back home? My ma’s going to kill me. I’ve already missed two Sunday dinners.”

Sisk shook his head. “At the most a year our time, six months your time. We can guarantee a return to the spot you came from that way. At the least—well kiddo that remains to be seen.” He pulled something off Haldane’s desk. “You might want to flip through some of this, though a good portion of it might not apply to you.”

“ _Might_?”

Sisk shrugged. “Remains to be seen.” He nodded to Haldane. “I’ll send a messenger off to Roe with the details and try to get him here as soon as possible.”

“Is that necessary?” Haldane asked.

“Training timetables,” Sisk said. “Have Renata take a big whiff of him too. She’s been all over. She might be able to pick up on something before Roe gets here.”

“Do I smell that bad?” Babe asked. He’d just showered this morning. He wasn’t used to big cakes of soap to wash his hair, but he’d seen suds damn it.

“Not that kind of scent,” Haldane said. “We’ll explain later. We’ve taken up enough of your time, and I believe Eugene should be here soon to escort you to the Grounded Brigantine. It should be an experience.”

“Is it, like, a historical site? That’s cool.”

“It’s a tavern,” Sisk said. “I have a feeling it’s in your wheelhouse, kid.”

**************

They never quite got to the tavern. Eugene had a mountain of work to complete and Babe felt bad about eating the man’s food and sleeping in his house without offering some help. There were scrolls, notebooks, and magical shining tablets full of detailed classification descriptions of each creature big and small Eugene had ever met here. 

“I promised Jay I’d have it all ready for the reference index by the end of this month,” Eugene said as they boxed up the stacks completely devoted to things with wings. “I’m only about halfway there.”

“Does any other source like this exist in that huge ass tower of knowledge they call a library?” Babe asked.

“Not this detailed,” Eugene said.

“I think you’re good to ask for an extension then,” he said. “It’s only your life’s work.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get to The Grounded Brigantine today.”

“I’m guessing by its name it’s not going anywhere,” Babe said. “Besides, how different can a bar get?”

“They have dragons among their clientele,” Eugene said.

“Then I’m even more okay with staying here and not meddling in the affairs of dragons,” he said. 

“Only Goodfellows,” a man said as he appeared out of thin air.

Babe’s white knuckled grip on the table was the only thing that kept him upright. “Who the hell? _What_ the hell?”

Eugene smiled as he gestured to the dark-haired man. “Babe, this is Shifty.”

“I’ll fucking say,” Babe said as he took a deep breath. 

Shifty smiled at him. “You must be the new Wanderer. Pleasure to meet you.” He patted the bag at his side. “I brought some beans for the soup.”

“Are they gonna grow a beanstalk?” Babe asked.

“I don’t suppose they will,” Shifty said. “I can try to do it, if you want? Haven’t tried a transmutation spell in ages.”

“No,” Eugene said with a shake of his head. “No beanstalks in the backyard. Just keep them regular beans for your soup.” 

“Next time then,” Shifty said as he sauntered off towards the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“Shifty’s a magically fast cook. He’s also a Goodfellow,” Eugene explained. “Please try to limit the amount of mischief you tempt him with. There’s a poor clock tower two towns over that bellows out _Hickory-Dickory-Dock_ each hour because Leckie got bored one day and bet Shifty he couldn’t do it.”

“No shit,” Babe said.

“It wasn’t my best work,” Shifty admitted as he came out with a streaming pot. “It’s only sounds, no colors or smells or possible visions. A quick job with no finesse.”

“Then why not stop it or fix it?” Babe asked.

Shifty smiled at him as he set a plate down of some blue-colored soup. “I’ve got more restraint than the rest of my Goodfellow kin. Just because I can do something don’t mean I will. I’d rather save my skill and energy for when I really need it. Besides, if folk think all you can do is a little musical magic then they underestimate you. It works to my advantage when I work for the Watch Keepers. People think I’m too idle-minded to guard their minds against me. Funny thing about Goodfellows, we can creep into the deepest parts of the mind better than any Soul Reader.”

“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Babe murmured. He tried not to make a face as he stirred his soup.

“Fight against the basic psychology in your mind that tells you it’s going to taste like blue Gatorade,” Eugene said as he watched him. “Or just close your eyes and take the culinary plunge.”

Babe gripped his spoon, shut his eyes, and said, “Bottoms up.”


	3. Two

Babe woke up a few days later to a message delivered by one pissed off magical pseudo-pigeon. Babe ate his not-strawberries and oats as he took his time looking over the terse message form Sisk ordering him to have his ass firmly planted in Haldane’s home by noon. No details were offered or niceties attempted, just a ten word command. _Be at Haldane’s at noon or I drag you there._

Babe never liked to be ordered around by anyone that wasn’t family, so part of him wanted to say fuck it and spend the day flipping through Eugene’s sketchbooks. The other part of him, the part that had gotten into enough shit as a kid to know better not to piss off a guy like Skinny, knew to suck it up and follow. Sisk was the threatening kind of quiet, the kind you just didn’t piss off if it could be avoided. Babe had no doubt Skinny could easily dump his body down some magical ravine and then go to sleep at night without any trouble or guilt to weigh him down. Sisk clearly knew where all the bodies were buried. It still didn’t mean Babe had to _like_ being told what to do. He was game for mostly anything as long as he got _asked_. A simple courtesy didn’t seem too much to ask, especially in a land with magically fairies and ruling families and shit. 

Babe just hoped he didn’t end up in some sort of magical Mob family warfare. Babe had spent some nights skimming through Eugene’s stacks of the local newspaper. He wanted to get as much information as he could for his own safety, and while libraries were nice and all, Babe didn’t need a history lesson so much as a look at the current status quo. Apparently Haldane had some political tensions in his family line and the general populace was obviously worried about a repeat of some pretty brutal past wars. 

Babe could do many things to pass the time or earn a dime, he just hoped he wasn’t about to be turned into a mercenary or some shit. There weren’t enough Hail Marys to save his soul in that case. 

“You planning on heading out?” Chuck Grant asked.

Babe liked Chuck. His family ran one of the local storefronts, and he often stopped by with samples for Eugene to try. He was easy-going, with a quick smile and a genuine interest in his eyes when other people talked. He didn’t shy away from Babe or Eugene like some of the more conservative, anti-Wanderer folks. If nothing else, Chuck seemed like a good ally to have, and hopefully a good friend to make. 

“I probably should if I don’t want to sleep with the fishes,” Babe said. 

“The only fish you have to worry about around here is Bessie. She’s Prince Eideard’s pet. A sea creature who traveled all the way from one of the Siren’s strongholds to keep him company. I don’t think she sleeps on the surface,” Chuck said.

Babe patted Chuck’s shoulder. “We need to find the place that plays my kind of movies around here. _The Godfather_ is required viewing.”

Chuck laughed. “Okay, Heffron, I’ll take you up on that. Vest can get us anything.”  
“I knew you had some connections,” Babe said. He grabbed Sisk’s message and stuck it in his pocket. “Once Eugene emerges from his study of that bird thing, can you tell him where I went? That kid’s going to worry himself into an early grave.”

“Will do,” Chuck said as he took the leftover fruit off Babe’s plate and went back to his own stack of messages. 

Merrymec was one of those quaint little towns Babe only ever read about in books. The place had its own kind of thriving noise, completely different from what Babe thought sounded like home, but interesting in its own way. Babe took his time has he walked to the royal residence and took in the sounds, sights, and smells around him. The air even tasted different here, something distinctly sweet about it. 

The flames outside the Watch Keepers headquarters changed from orange to a daisy yellow as Babe approached. The door slid open on its own and Babe tried to figure out where the magical sensor was as he passed through the doorway. Heavy oak didn’t just freely slide like that without a little help. 

The Watch Keeper headquarters was empty. Babe looked around the room and took in a deep breath. This was something familiar; it smelled and felt like an old small town library. Babe had already seen some of their advanced technology here, the result of combining magic with innovation, but he swore he could smell the years seeping from the age of the books on the shelf. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was a chalkboard hidden on one of the walls under all the maps and papers. Babe picked up a handful of the brightly colored pamphlets on the bookshelf and laughed at the titles.

“ _Weres Aren’t Weird_ ; _Dances with Dragons_ ; _Sweet Songs of the Sirens_. Who comes up with this shit?” he asked.

“I do,” a man said. He wore a sweatshirt that proudly proclaimed _Harvard_ and carried a clipboard in one hand. “You must be Edward Heffron.”

“Babe,” he corrected.

“Excuse me?” the man asked.

“He prefers to be called Babe,” Leckie said as he sauntered into the room with Hoosier. Leckie nodded at the stranger. “I see you’ve climbed down from your ivory tower, Webster. I like the glasses. New acquisition?”

Webster didn’t seemed phased by the sarcasm so evident in Leckie’s words. “Vest purchased them at my request. I always was a fan of Buddy Holly.”

“Of course you were,” Leckie said. “You were a hipster before anyone ever heard of the term.”

Really, Leckie wasn’t _all_ that bad after you knew him for a couple of weeks. 

“Roe wrote the older pamphlets over by the door,” Hoosier said. “They’re more informative. Webster’s are specifically designed for you Wanderer folk.”

“You say that like we’re a bad thing,” Babe said. “Not very neighborly of you, Mr. Wizard.”

“Never saw the appeal of being so,” Hoosier said. He pulled a pamphlet from a wooden organizer closest to the door. “Read this one.”

“ _Embrace the Beyond_ ,” Babe read the title aloud as he took it. “This sounds like some New Age self-help book.”

Leckie leaned over Babe’s shoulder. “I’ve been through practically every piece of literature in this office. I’ve never seen this one before.”

“Because it wasn’t meant for you to see,” Eideard said as he pushed past Webster. He took a seat behind one of the massive desks. “That one only appears to those who need it. You should read it,” he said to Babe. “The title is just a general one. That pamphlet is imbued with a spell that caters to the reader.”

“Fascinating,” Webster said as he tried to grab it. 

Babe pocketed the pamphlet before he came only closer. “I’ll give you a book report later,” he said. He left Webster and Leckie to search through the stack of pamphlets near Hoosier and walked over to Eddie.

“Do you know what this meeting is about?” he asked.

“Yes,” Eddie said.

Babe should’ve expected that answer. “And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Let life surprise you,” Eddie said.

Babe almost laughed in his face. Life had surprised him enough already this year. “Can you at least tell what Sisk’s deal is?”

Eddie shrugged. “He’s lived many more years compared to your own life. He’s seen the best and the worst the world has to offer on both sides of the Divide. His job requires a certain sense of solitary confinement that could be trying on any soul. He just decided long ago not to put up that glamour of cheer everyone else dons for the sake of making other people feel better. He’s not a miserable man, or a sad one, just a tired one.”

“Fair enough,” Babe said. “I just wonder what that’s got to do with me and why it requires some special dude to come here and give me a check-up.”

“You’ll figure it out once you meet that _dude_ ,” Eddie said. He laughed to himself. “The variances of language will always amuse me.”

“You’ve heard it all then?” Babe asked.

“Sirens know the water and water goes everywhere,” Eddie said. He turned his head to the entryway connected to the manor and his face softened. “Better take your proper seats, boys. Prince Aindrea enters.”

“Stay seated,” Haldane said as he entered. Sisk and a tall, blonde woman followed behind him. Haldane gestured to Babe. “Renata, this is Babe Heffron. He’s the Wanderer we spoke to you about.”

“The lost boy,” she said. She smiled as she approached him. “May I?” she asked.

Babe didn’t know what she wanted, but she didn’t seem like the ax murderer type. “Go ahead,” he said. He almost jumped back when she lunged forward and pressed her nose into his hairline. “What the hell?” he asked.

Leckie shrugged. “Wolves have their own social graces,” he said.

“Wolf?” Babe asked as Renata stepped back.

“Yes,” she said. “Though my pack is more unconventional than most. Do not go wandering into the North Woods, little lost boy. There are wolves with much more dangerous appetites than my own in those lands. They might just try to gobble you up.”

Leckie laughed as he pointed to Babe’s sweatshirt. “Look at that. Little Red Riding Hood.”

Babe really didn’t like Leckie all that much. 

“He is human,” Renata said. “He smells of a Wanderer from an urban settlement, on the coast I am guessing, near a large body of salt water. There may be something more fantastical down his ancestral lines. Perhaps you will find your answers there.”

“There isn’t any trace of magic on him?” Haldane asked. He sounded truly surprised. 

“None that would be out of place for our world. He has been here long enough to carry those traces in his scent, but there is nothing more there at the surface.” She looked apologetic as she studied him. “Gene may find something more. Maybe it is hidden, locked inside. Without a full analysis of the blood and the soul, you will not know.”

“Am I sick or something?” Babe asked. Eddie, Haldane, and Sisk looked way too serious for Babe’s personal comfort level. “I feel fine.”

“That is part of the problem,” Renata said. She placed her palm on his forehead and he felt a trickle of warm energy curl down his spine. “Peace,” she said. “All will resolve itself in time.”

“Thanks,” Babe said. “You’re the nicest wolf I’ve ever met.”

“As is so often said about me,” Renata said. She turned to Haldane. “If that is all, I must open the shop. I would like to close it early for Gene’s arrival.”

“He’s coming?” Sisk asked.

Renata sniffed the air. “A day away at most.” 

“Thank you for your time, Renee,” Haldane said. “It is always a pleasure to see you in my home.”

Renata laughed at his words. “My pack is already behind you, Prince Aindrea. There is no need for empty flattery.”

“Not empty,” Haldane said. “Let me show you to the door.”

Renata winked at Eddie. “His manners have so very much improved since our first meeting.”

“You know how those royal brats are,” Eddie said. He stood up. “I’ll walk you to your store.   
There is something I’d like to discuss away from the gossiping ears of Webster and Leckie.”

“Yes, that would be wise. Those two would both like to deliver the exclusive to our gossip outlets,” Renata agreed. 

Neither Webster nor Leckie looked embarrassed by the accusation, though neither denied it. 

Babe could feel a headache coming on again as he thought about all the strangers in the room and the different ways of life they came from. It made him deeply miss the simplicity of Eugene’s study and the soothing sound of Shifty’s humming as he cooked dinner. 

“Am I good to go too?” he asked.

“Not quite,” Sisk said. “There’s something I’ve got explain to you.” He looked at Babe and then the others gathered in the office. “Not here, though. I heard you haven’t had a chance yet to visit The Grounded Brigantine. Let me buy you a beer, Babe.”

************

“The Veils are tricky little bastards,” Sisk said as he slid an ale over to Babe. “Only on the solstice and the equinox do they fully drop. On those days anyone can pass through. They don’t need a guide, and they can make a trip through the Veil and back before sunrise. The boundaries between the worlds also grow thin on full and new moons.”

“The power of the lunar cycle,” Babe said.

“And then some,” Sisk agreed. “Some people can maneuver between the worlds on those times; Oracles, Sirens, Dragons, and any of the true Elders. Very few of the Sidhe can as well, not Haldane’s family, but the Sidhe clans closer to the very first settlements from this side of the Divide. They have ancient magic on their side, but it’s volatile. Don’t ever let a Sidhe offer to take you through on a Veil trip. You’ll probably end up on the Titanic right as it’s sinking.”

“Good to know,” Babe said.

“Heed that advice, please. We almost had an incident last year with—just watch yourself around the forest and mountain Sidhe.”

“Didn’t really plan to leave the confines of Merrymec, but considered it noted,” Babe said. He took a nut from the bowl on the table. They were the size of walnuts, tasted like peanuts, and made him thirsty. “I think I’m going to need another drink.”

Sisk laughed at him. “Malarkey, bring us another!”

“I’m not your tavern wench,” a redhead in an apron called back.

“Aww, don’t make me call Martin in here to give you a lesson on manners,” Sisk said.

“Fine.”

Sisk laughed, truly laughed, and nodded. “Malarkey’s a great guy. Captain Stella owns this place, but Malarkey keeps it running. This place is always open for the weary traveler and Malarkey always has something ready to go on the stove.”

“You seem to like it here,” Babe said.

“You do too,” Sisk said. 

“Bars I know,” Babe said. “This place is pretty familiar aside from the whole, ship being magically anchored to the grown and all that.”

“It takes some getting used to,” Malarkey admitted as he put the drinks down along with two bowls of soup and some bread. “It’s the closest I’ve got to tomato and it seems to comfort all you Wanderers.”

“Thanks, man,” Babe said, truly grateful.

“Reward me with some repeat business,” Malarkey said. He shook Babe’s head, slapped Sisk on the back on the head, and got back behind the bar. 

They both finished their soup before Sisk took up the conversation again.

“There are others who can go through the Veils at will. They’re a special type. They can be trained to access the boundaries between them and….for lack of a better phrase, break on through to the other side.”

“Never pegged you as a Doors fan,” Babe said.

“I quite like my record player,” Sisk said. “We thought Leckie might’ve been one of these types. We call the Realm Jumpers.”

“He’s not?” Babe asked.

“No,” Sisk said. “Leckie still can’t handle long-term exposure to the oldest and most powerful types of our magic. If he ever tried to Realm Jump, his heart would probably explode. Realm Jumping is really only designed for a certain type of soul. They have to be able to easily navigate both worlds, not just physically travel them, but build connections, understand the languages and social cues, and endure the toll of tearing through the Veils.”

Babe carefully chewed and swallowed his bread before he answered. He had a feeling he knew where Sisk was going with this and it suddenly made the pleasant soup turn heavy in Babe’s stomach.

“That sounds like a pretty rare skill,” he finally said.

“Not as rare as you’d think,” Sisk said. “There’s a genetic predisposition for it, and considering Realm Jumpers have existed for millennia, their genes have spread on both sides of the Divide.”

“And you think I’m one of these people,” Babe said.

Sisk shrugged. “I think it’s probably some sort of recessive trait in your family line and it’s decided to express itself in you. You should not be handling the adjustment to our world as well as you are. It’s uncommon.”

“But not the first time it’s happened,” Babe said. “That’s why you had Renata try to scent me out. This has happened before.”

“Usually the Realm Jumpers from your side have a different hint of something in their pheromones, I don’t get it. Of course, I don’t sniff people out for shits and giggles. Renata didn’t smell it on you.”

“So I’m going to take more than a sniff test?” Babe asked. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“It’s going to be more of an examination,” Sisk said. “Gene Roe is a doctor of sorts. He can see things hidden below the surface and between the Veils. Honestly we should have had you examined weeks ago. I had to wait for Roe’s schedule to clear. I wanted the best, and it doesn’t get better than him.”

“He’s that good?” Babe asked. “Most of the doctors I know are kind of arrogant assholes. Or maybe I just see them that way. Granted, if I knew I faced a lifetime of medical school debt and live-or-death decisions I’d probably be an asshole too.”

“Probably?” Sisk asked.

Babe swatted at him. “Fuck you, Sisk. You don’t know me that well yet.” 

He took a sip of his drink, enjoying the sweet taste of the local brew. Around them the bar patrons laughed, sang, and played some sort of strategy game that had Leckie and Webster yelling about land wars and Russian winters. It was pretty dark inside, like the best hole-in-the-wall bars, though this time it was an actual grounded ship. Babe definitely liked it here. 

“For real, Sisk. Tell me how this ship ended up here in the first place.”

Sisk shook his head. “Now that’s a question best left for Captain Stella. She won’t tell you until at least your fifth visit here. There are a lot of myths about how it got here. She tends to feed the bullshit one to the Wanderers, but you might just get the truth. You’ve got one of those faces. Not many can bring themselves to lie to a lost little puppy.”

“Jackass,” Babe muttered into his drink.

“Proudly,” Sisk said. 

***************

Another day, another summons to the manor. This time it was delivered in person at least, Snafu lingering in Eugene’s kitchen doorway as he helped himself to the leftovers from breakfast. 

“Gene’s coming,” Snafu said.

Babe frowned as he watched Eugene work on his illustrations at the table. “Uh, he’s right there, Snaf.”

“Not that Gene,” Snafu said. He smiled at Babe in a way that felt like a taunt and a threat. “You’ll see. We got to go up to the Manor. He’s not that far away now.”

Babe didn’t know if he was comfortable walking with Snafu without some sort of back-up. Something about him just made Babe’s skin crawl; probably that whole communicating with the dead thing. Snafu was more unnatural than the supernatural crawling around this entire world. It was something about those eyes that just unnerved Babe to the very depths of his mortal soul.

“Uh, Sledge?” Babe asked. “You feel like coming along?”

“Sure,” Eugene said. He wiped his wands off on a handkerchief. “I need to meet with Jay anyway.”

Snafu kept smirking at Babe as they walked the path to the manor. Eugene stopped every few feet to greet various neighbors and shop-keepers. He’d already gotten a free loaf of bread for being such a sweet boy. 

“At least those manners my mama drilled into me are good for something,” he said. He passed the loaf of bread to Snafu. “Eat. I can see your bones.”

“Thanks,” Snafu said. 

“High metabolism,” Eugene said. “Snafu burns up a lot whenever he communicates with the true dead. There’s no such thing as leftovers around him.”

Babe didn’t even want to think about _why_ there was distinction between _dead_ and _true dead_. He decided for his own peace of mind to just take everyone at their word. There were some things he was more than willing to remain innocent and ignorant about. 

The Watch Keepers office was already full when they arrived and in a lively debate from how loud Leckie’s voice reverberated in the hall. 

“Hold up just one second. How come no one’s going off on Red about reading that godforsaken handbook? Why isn’t Webster here to perform his five cent speech with million dollar words?” Leckie asked. 

No one paid attention to them as they slipped into the room except Eddie who nodded at them.

Haldane’s head was in his hands as he answered. “Because, unlike your case wherein you were transported here not just asleep but, as far as we’re still able to tell, completely unconscious and unconnected, Heffron here was awake and aware for his transition.”

“And he’s also not so desperate to leave that he’s contemplated the utter fucking stupidity of making a deal with the Sidhe to rip a hole in the fabric of the universe,” Eddie said.

“I never actually _made_ the deal,” Leckie muttered.

“Thanks only to an illness that nearly killed you,” Hoosier said. There wasn’t a trace of his sarcastic status quo quips in his face. 

There was a story there. Babe kind of wanted to know, and kind of didn’t. Knowing could lead to honestly caring about these people like they were friends or family, and this sure as hell wasn’t home. He was already attached to Eugene, Shifty, and Grant. Hell, now he even had his own watering hole. Babe wasn’t big on being homesick for yet another place where he couldn’t exactly just visit for a long weekend.

“So that means he doesn’t have to read that glorified doorstop? After all the shit I went through?” Leckie asked. 

“I’ve actually read the handbook though,” Babe said. His words went unnoticed as Leckie and Hoosier argued on. 

He was about to say something to Eugene when he tensed. There was a sudden itch under his skin; something between a tickle and goosebumps, but not really unpleasant. It was the first time since arriving in Magic Town that he’d felt anything other than normal. He clenched and unclenched his hands in an effort to make the feeling go away. It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t even uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. He shook his head and forced himself to focus again on the conversation around him.

“But I didn’t die,” Leckie protested. 

“Not for lack of trying,” a new voice said.

Babe had spent the past three weeks meeting a whole slew of strangers, and never had any of them made him feel like he’d just been slammed into by a freight train upon first glance. 

“And to what do we owe the presence of Death?” Leckie asked. 

“Ain’t here for you, Robert,” the man said. He walked without making a sound, almost as if he glided upon the floor, and stopped in front of Babe. “You must be the new Wanderer.”

Babe grinned like an asshole because he never did know any better. “My reputation precedes me then?”

“You stink of mortality,” the man said.

Babe wrinkled his nose and took an audible sniff of his shirt collar. It smelled like the harsh soap Sledge swore was for washing clothes. 

“You can’t smell it, asshole,” Leckie said. “Reaper Roe here isn’t human.”

“Leckie, pardon my community college education, but from what I gathered around here very few fucking people are human,” Babe said. 

The Reaper— _Jesus fucking Christ, Mary, and Joseph_ —laughed. Actually laughed. It brought color to his pale face and from the looks everyone was giving Babe, apparently that wasn’t common. Fuck. He really didn’t want to be fed to Eddie’s pet lake monster for, like, offending a high official or some shit. 

“So, more cowbell?” Babe asked as he grinned at the Reaper.

“I see you’re one of those types,” Roe said. “Sooner or later this plane of existence is going to be overrun by smart mouthed jackasses who ought to know better when speaking to folk who can read their very souls.”

Roe didn’t miss a beat as he spoke his soft rant, sorting through his bag like his words weren’t of any import. Babe really hoped it was a joke. He opened his mouth to go off again, but stopped at Eugene’s subtle headshake.

“What? Seriously?” he asked. 

“Just one of the many services I provide,” Roe said as he took off his gloves. His fingers looked worn and old compared to the youth of his face. “Don’t you worry that little head of yours. I don’t do it without asking first.”

“Consequently that’s why he’s here,” Sisk said. “We’ll only go through with it with your okay, Heffron.”

Babe recalled all the times his grandparents told him not to mess with the higher powers and things beyond his understanding. He didn’t think those same rules of life could help him here. He’d passed by his usual understanding at least a month ago. 

“It’s not going to do any permanent damage, right?” he asked.

Roe’s smile was small as he shook his head. “It’s not my job to change anything in there, just to look around. Won’t hurt a bit, I swear.”

“Reaper’s honor?” Babe asked.

Roe nodded. “Healer’s too. Robert there always forgets the other part of my title. I actively avoid trying to bring people pain. It’s usual my job to pull it out of them.”

Babe didn’t quite know to respond to that; he couldn’t imagine the strength it took. He watched the hint of tension in Roe’s shoulders at Babe’s silence. Babe knew that stance. He’d spent a lifetime watching out for the lonely kids who always braced for the coming blows; for those who gave too much of themselves because they thought everyone else more worthy. Babe decided to do what he did best.

“I hope you get good benefits with that,” he said. 

Leckie was the first to break the silence, a few rough chuckles that turned into a belly laugh. He set off Hoosier, then Sisk and Eugene, then even Snafu and Haldane allowed themselves the indulgence. Eddie gave him a respectful nod. Even Roe grinned. 

“I’m going to have some fun glancing that soul of yours,” Roe said.

“Just stay out of the dark corners,” Babe said. “We going to do this here?”

Roe looked around the room, took in all the faces around them, then settled his eyes on Babe. For a moment something flickered there, and Babe swore Roe’s eyes turned dark, almost bottomless, before it settled back.

“We should go where you feel most comfortable here,” he finally said. 

“Eugene’s home,” Babe said without hesitation. “Mr. Southern Gentleman knows his hospitality.”

“My parents raised me right,” Eugene said. “It’s where he’s spent the most time. He’s established there.”

“Then there we shall go,” Roe said. “Only Sledge and Sisk need follow us. Too many people, too many connections going around. I’m sure Sisk will give you all the report later.”

Haldane nodded. “You heard Gene.” He stood and grasped Babe’s shoulder. “Good luck. Don’t worry. You won’t even know it’s happening.”

Babe snorted. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

No one said much as they took the road back to Eugene’s house. Babe had questions though, a ton of them if he was honest. 

“Why didn’t we meet here in the first place?”

“I didn’t know if it was even worth trying,” Roe said. He held a hand over his eyes to shade them from the sun. “There are a lot of folks who come over and have something a little special down their bloodlines. That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re Realm Jumper material. They could still work with them, help curate the objects brought back, and teach them to the folks here, but it takes a unique strength to go through the Veils at will.”

“And you caught a hint of that with me after five minutes of shooting the shit?” Babe asked. That seemed one of the more extreme of the six impossible things he got before whatever counted as breakfast. 

“I did,” Roe said with no added explanation. 

Babe laughed. “Okay then, Mr. Reaper. I guess we’ll do it your way now.”


	4. Three

Babe sat on his designated chair in Eugene Sledge’s study as Sisk and Sledge walked around the room closing the shutters and blocking all outside light. 

“Please don’t tell me I have to look in a mirror and say ‘Bloody Mary’ three times. I swore to my parents I’d never do that shit,” Babe said. 

“It’s more about shutting out and away any outside distractions,” Roe said. “For you,” he clarified. 

Roe took the seat across from him and studied Babe. There was nothing arrogant or calculating in his gaze, just a steady sense of knowledge and curiosity. It was obvious Roe knew what he was doing, how this was all as natural to him as breathing. Or maybe breathing wasn’t natural to him? Babe wasn’t sure how this whole Reaper/Healer thing worked. 

“So, how’d you get the gig?” he asked.

“Born into it,” Roe said. “Family legacy on both sides.” 

That didn’t seem right. He tried to imagine how that family legacy could work without causing some seriously problems. 

“Isn’t there some sort of personal conflict there?” he asked.

“Only if you see death as a punishment,” Roe said. “When a Reaper comes for you, it’s not without reason. We take the soul to spare it as much pain as possible.”

“Good reason,” Babe said. “But if that’s so, then why’s there a difference between dead and _really_ dead?”

He remembered Snafu teasing him about that, but no one had bothered to explain the difference and Babe had already learned there were some questions not worth asking. If he was going to ask anybody, Roe seemed the right person.

Roe seemed amused as he answered. “The dead have the possibility of regaining their corporeal forms one day, and do hold them for some time on the solstices and equinoxes when all the veils are thin. They can become ghosts or assistants to the Reapers. The True Dead have no contact with any others save themselves, the Reapers, and the Oracles. They may one day be reborn, though not under the same name or even with the same clan.”

Babe whistled. “That’s a hell of a difference.”

“Quite the distinction,” Roe agreed. 

The room went dark as the last curtain fell. Babe’s common sense told him he should be freaked out, but he felt oddly comfortable. It had something to do with that steady, unblinking gaze coming from Roe. 

Babe Heffron never really thought about what he expected the face of Death to look like. He certainly didn’t expect the slim man before him; light eyes full of years and knowledge with chapped lips and pale skin; far too reminiscent of _human_ , but just ethereal enough to be not. Maybe it wasn’t fair to call him the face of Death since he was only part-Reaper. Either way Roe wasn’t exactly a Son of Adam and Babe didn’t know how the hell to deal with it. 

“I’m guessing it’s showtime?” he asked. 

“Almost,” Roe said. “I just need to know your name.”

Babe laughed. “You know my name. It’s Babe.”

“The name you were born with,” Roe clarified. 

Babe didn’t see why that was important. No one called him by his birth name unless it was his mother and she was pissed off. 

“Is that really a requirement?”

“For now,” Roe said. 

Babe didn’t think it would cost him anything to admit the truth, and something just made him trust Roe. A _stupid_ something probably, the kind of something that he’d probably regret in the end, but he still wanted Roe to know. 

“Edward,” he said. 

“Edward,” Roe said. “How does Babe derive from such a name?”

Babe shrugged. “Just does.”

Roe only nodded. He turned to Skinny. “Sisk, can you give me a light?”

Babe had almost forgotten there were two other people in the room with them. Eugene gave him a comforting smile while Skinny stood behind Roe.

Skinny pulled out a sliver lighter and handed it to Roe. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” Roe said. He flicked the lighter and took the flame into his hands.

“How the fuck?” Babe asked.

“Don’t worry about it, Edward,” Roe said. “It doesn’t burn. It’s just a light, that’s all it is. I need you to do me a favor and let your eyes follow the flame.”

“Why? Is something going to jump out at me?”

“It’s just a light,” Roe repeated in a slow, steady, cadence. “Just listen to my voice and follow the light, Edward.”

Babe frowned as he sat forward. “Just so you know, if this makes me start clucking like a chicken I’m going to be really pissed. You could’ve just told me you needed to hypnotize me.”

“Just look into the light before Skinny here shoves your face into it,” Roe said.

Babe held up his hands. “Okay, okay, you want me to look into the light, I’ll look into it.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He opened them and forced himself to focus on the light in Roe’s hands. The color of the flames changed, but that wasn’t what caught Babe’s attention. He focused on Roe’s hands. They were as pale as the rest of him, worn, worker’s hands, and yet something told him that if he touched them they would be soft. Maybe the scars there were the price to be paid for laying his hands on others and healing them. Maybe each soul he touched left their own mark. 

Following the lines and whorls of Roe’s skin may have taken him minutes or hours, Babe wasn’t sure. All he knew is that everything went still and silent around him. He couldn’t even hear himself breathe. His mind didn’t go blank or anything. A peace settled around him and Babe felt calm, truly calm, for the first time since he arrived. 

Babe felt a hand touch his own and he looked down. When he looked up the room was full of light again, the flames gone from Roe’s hand, and Skinny and Eugene were both smiling at him. 

Roe’s fingers were still curled around Babe’s wrist. Babe swore he saw a violet light pulse around where they were connected before Roe released him. 

Babe looked up and met Roe’s eyes. They were kind and encouraging as they met his own.

He cleared his throat and asked, “So what’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

Roe smiled as he stood. “You value family and loyalty above all else. You’re a stubborn one, Edward. I hope it serves you well.” He turned to Skinny. “He has the fortitude for training. He may turn out to be one of your best.”

Skinny patted Roe’s back. “Always a pleasure, Gene.”

“Never a bother,” Roe said. 

Roe was nearly out the door when Babe shot up out of his chair. He had about a hundred questions he needed answered, but one stood at the top of the list.

“Hey Doc,” he said, catching Roe at the edge of the threshold. “Why did you really need my birth name?”

“An important question not many people from your side bother to ask,” Roe said. “You are going to do well in your training.”

“That’s not an answer,” Babe said, even though he was flattered by Roe’s confidence in him.

“No, it’s not,” Roe agreed. “Edward, names, and the calling of people by their true names, hold power. That power reveals things if you know how to use it. Don’t go giving out your full name to just anyone.”

“So, wait— you’re saying the name everyone calls me doesn’t have its own power?”

“Of course it does,” Roe said. “It’s also a name your parents gave you, that everyone calls you, and its repetition alone gives it strength. It’s different from the name you were born with, which can hold its own stronger power from the ties of family traditions, to parental wishes, to rites.”

“Rites?” Babe asked. “Like my baptism?”

“Just like that,” Roe said. “Babe is the name you’re known by, Edward is your true name. It’s good to have options. The more names you have, the harder it is to uncover them all, and the more difficult you’ll be to control.”

“You’re telling me someone can control me just by saying my name?”

“To Name someone is to know them,” Roe intoned. He smiled at Babe. “Yes, it is a possibility. There are ways to defend against it.”

“Please tell me I’m going to learn those ways,” Babe said. 

“Should come in your first few Realm Jumper lesson,” Roe said. He held out his hand. “It was nice to meet you, Edward. Thank you for allowing me inside your mind; that took a type of faith I don’t often find in strangers.”

Babe shook his hand. “Thanks for not making me cluck like a chicken.”

******************

Skinny Sisk wasn’t the type of guy Babe would’ve picked to lead a group of anyone, much less a bunch of powerful people who could punch holes in space and time. He was a surprisingly patient, if wiseass, teacher. He just didn’t have the time to give Babe the whole theoretical breakdown since he _was_ the leader of such a group.

“You basically just wasted your vacation on me,” Babe said as Skinny led him to the university tower. 

Skinny shrugged. “We’ll see whether or not it’s a waste. You’ve got a lot of training ahead of you, if you choose to join with us.”

“I didn’t think I had a choice,” Babe said. Everyone had really come at him with the assumption he was just going to do this and Babe had pretty much decided to follow.

Skinny stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Heffron, if this isn’t what you want, you’re more than free to step back. We’ll let you have your nice little sojourn in our land and send you back home at the right solstice. Some assholes over on your side might find out what you have the ability to do and go after you for it, but we can offer you protection.”

“There’s a magical Secret Service?”

Skinny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“Look, Sisk, I’m okay with learning this so far. The only other thing I’ve got going for me is helping Sledge organize his creature classification stuff. Do I want to do this for the rest of my life? I don’t know. I’ve got my family, you know? We’ll see. Personally, I’m flattered you think I’m a worthy investment.”

“Roe thinks you are at least,” Skinny said as they resumed their walk.

“So, ripping holes in space and time. Do I get my own TARDIS?”

“Unless you’ve grown a second heart and call Gallifrey home—no,” Skinny said. “Look kid, you’ve got a unique ability to focus on points in time, to pierce the actual veils of the worlds at will. That’s not common. I want you to _truly_ understand how rare it is to have such a natural ability when you give no other indications of being a Realm Jumper. We haven’t had someone with your amount of natural ability in at least two of your centuries.”

“Ma always told me I was special.” 

He had to joke about it or else it’d all be just _too much_. Babe was a regular person; he had no qualms about being ordinary. It didn’t make any sense for him to have some inherent decoder ring for traveling magical worlds. He’d never left the east coast before falling down this particular rabbit hole. He never had that urge to up and leave home. He loved home; it had his family, his friends, and everything that helped make Babe _Babe_. He didn’t think any of the folks here were a liar though. No one was telling him to drink the Kool-Aid. He couldn’t deny the truth before him. There was an obvious ability to go between home and _Casablanca_ didn’t just appear on magical viewing screens out of thin air in a completely different world.

“I still don’t really get this,” he admitted as he kicked a loose rock in the street. “I can what, bend time? I’m pretty sure that never ends well.”

“It’s more like you have the ability to make the Veils drop whenever you want,” Skinny said. “Not at first, it takes centuries of training to do it completely on a whim without using a typical access point.”

“Centuries? Hey buddy, I got decades at most.”

Skinny smiled, something very unhuman lurking in his eyes. “We can rebuild him. We have the technology.”

“Seriously? _The Six Million Dollar Man_? All the possible television shows— _friggin’ M*A*S*H_ —and that’s what you remember from my world?”

Skinny shrugged. “I actually watched a little bit of both. I didn’t think whistling _Suicide is Painless_ would calm you.”

“It’s a soothing tune when you don’t know the lyrics,” Babe muttered. He stopped as they hit the stone steps leading up the actual ivory tower of the university. 

“Never went to college,” he said. “Never really wanted to go. Couldn’t afford it, didn’t see the reason for it, and now look where I am.”

“I don’t think they offer classes or degrees on places like this, at least not on your side,” Skinny said. “Webster’s apparently proposing a program like that over here. I guess we need to keep some of the Wanderers occupied and study is a familiar touchstone to their home.”

Babe laughed as he ran a hand over his face. “Who knew homework could be a unifying factor. Never saw that one coming.”

He stayed quiet as they walked through the heavy doors. Babe was far beyond out of his element here. He’d been to the massive library a few times, but never this far past the main doors. The university was like Wayside School, it went up instead of out, and it was honestly a maze navigating the corridors and staircases and whatever fucking magical tapestry served as a classroom doorway. 

They finally stopped at a painting of St. George.

“Uh, is this a test?” Babe asked. “He slew a dragon? Patron saint of England or something? He was a soldier?”

“Hell if I know,” Skinny said as he knocked on the frame. “This professor is going to go over all the theoretical aspects of Realm Jumping with you. His name is Luz and he’s a good guy, so don’t be an asshole. Me and Vest—”

“Vest?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll meet him, kid. Me and Vest will go over the practical aspects with you at a later date. If you decide to keep with the training, one of us will take you on your first jump. You’ll be supervised for your first two hundred at least.”

Skinny knocked again and the painting finally slide to the side revealing a door.

“What’s the matter, Sisk? Forgot how to have patience?” he asked.

Skinny just gestured for Babe to follow him into the room.

A short guy with dark hair sat at a wide desk. There were books, papers, and those magical tablets in piles around him. A large map covered the wall behind him, small colored lights glowing in various places, and lines pulsing across certain paths. 

“That’s our world,” Sisk said, pointing to the map. “All those shining spots are entry and exit points through the Veil. The lines are the active Realm Jumps.”

“This must be the new kid.” The man stood and held out his hand. “George Luz, nice to meet you.” He wore a _Star Trek_ t-shirt and a large grin.

Babe liked him on sight.

“Babe Heffron, and likewise,” he said as he shook his hand. “Quite an office you get here.”

“Yeah,” Luz said as he looked around, “it works for me.”

Skinny patted Babe’s shoulder and walked back to the door. “Don’t destroy that brain of his with all your knowledge, Luz. We want to keep this one.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Luz promised. He walked over to one of his bookshelves. “I’ll only start you off with two books today. One essay is good, right? You can get that done in a week to show me you get the basic terminology. Oh, and an interview with one of the locals to start your practical learning about our world; we can’t just have you hanging around your fellow Wanderers.”

Babe didn’t know what his face looked like in that moment, but he was pretty damn sure _deer in the headlights_ fit.

Luz turned and laughed at him. He threw something at Babe, who instinctively caught it. He flipped the slim book over in his hand.

“ _Young Avengers_?” he asked. 

“More relevant to your case than you’d imagine,” Luz said. “Let’s see if you can finish that one over lunch. I’m hungry, are you hungry? Of course you are, you probably got Shifty feeding you squirrels and berries. Let’s get you some real food, dinner and a show even.”

Babe looked at Skinny who just laughed as Luz took his arm and escorted him out of the room. 

“My buddy Joe Dominguez cooks a roast like you’ve never seen,” Luz said as they walked. “Honestly it’ll stay with you for at least a week. Failed wizard he is, our Joe, but he tries. You got to respect a man who works all hours to recreate the meals Wanderers come begging him for; pizza’s the biggest one. You wouldn’t think it would be so hard, and I think we’ve got the taste down, but people keep complaining about the colors.”

“Sauce isn’t supposed to be purple,” Babe said.

“Mind over matter, Heffron. First lesson.” Luz said. 

**************

 

Luz, the academic bastard, actually assigned Babe the essay on people in the town. He couldn’t use Shifty, Chuck, or anyone he knew at the Manor, because he was supposed to go out and see the town. 

Babe had decided to start off at one of the local shops before he moved to _The Grounded Brigantine_ to meet some of the regular travelers. Renee was nice enough to offer a place in her shop and it had turned out to be a hell of a respite for Babe’s nerves. 

Renee was a joy to be around when she wasn’t sniffing out his family line. She had a soft smile, an accented lilt to her voice, and the kind of laugh that always made others join along. She didn’t read as a wolf at all to Babe with her pale skin, wheat blonde hair, and a deceptively delicate appearance. Babe had seen her strength though, not by brute force, but by sheer will. She was the sheep amongst the wolves, even if she did howl at the moon every few weeks. She handled her customers with a grace where Babe would’ve at least threatened to bite some of them. She was also full of stories about everyone, even Roe. 

“Do you like Eugene?” Renee asked as she sorted through a stack of linen.

“Sledge is a nice guy, yeah,” Babe said as he flipped through his notes. “Hey, is that Perco guy really a dentist? How does that work here?”

“How have dentists always worked in history?” Renee asked. “I did not mean Eugene Sledge, I meant our dear Eugene Roe. Do you like him?”

Babe tried not to let himself think about Roe too much. He missed him, which was sad and hilarious because Babe wasn’t sure how you missed someone you’d only met once, but he just wanted to know more about the guy.

“He’s nice, yeah,” Babe said.

“Hmm,” Renee said as she cupped his cheek. “Your face is almost as red as your hair. He is coming next week to give a lecture to some of the Wanderers. He inquired if you plan to attend. I assume he did not send you word?”

“Not that I know of,” Babe said. 

“You should come,” Renee said. “It is not often our Eugene asks for anyone specific. What have you done to him, I wonder?”

“Hey, he looked into my soul, not the other way around,” Babe said.

“Yes,” Renee agreed. “Yes, he did.”

“Anyway,” Babe said as he pointedly turned back to his notes. “I have an essay to write. So you’re a werewolf, like Remus Lupin or like the other kind? Oz? Teen Wolf? Loup-garou?”

“Really? Renee asked. “Remus Lupin is your first guess?”

Babe nudged her shoulder with his own. “Maybe I like the shaggy professor look.”

Renee laughed as she stepped away and picked up a blue cloth. “You remind me of someone.”

“A good someone?”

“The youngest of my litter,” she said. “I have not seen him for decades. You’d probably hate each other at first, but would surely become friends for life.” She looked out the window of her shop, eyes turned to the west. “Duro is his name. My brothers settled in Boston last I heard.”

“Never been to Boston,” Babe said. “Maybe I should drop by when I go back home.”

Her smile was small as she nodded. “Maybe you should.”

***************

_The Grounded Brigantine_ was packed full with the early dinner crowd. Babe was smushed in between Sledge and Shifty at a tiny table while Leckie did a grammar check on his essay. Babe could already see the red ink bleeding through the paper. 

“It’s not that bad,” Leckie promised as flipped through the pages. “You’re mostly doing a report rather than trying to making an argument. You’ve gathered a lot of information here, from a variety of different people. Luz won’t be able to criticize you on that at least. You’ve talked to just about every group around here except for the Dragons.”

“We should introduce him to one,” Shifty said. He looked around the room and waved. “Ron! Ron’s here, he’ll do.”

“Oh no,” Sledge said as he slunk down in his seat. “It had to be him.”

“Colbert’s with him too,” Shifty said. 

“That’s better,” Sledge muttered. “I think I’m going to go see if they need help in the kitchen, or the office, or anywhere not here.”

“You don’t like the dragon guy?” Babe asked.

“He threatened to burn my house down once because I had dinner with the Reeve of his town. It was just a friendly discussion about the feline-like creatures in Mr. Lipton’s barn,” Sledge said. He stood up and pushed his chair back in like a proper gentleman. “I’ll be in the back.”

“Long story,” Leckie said at Babe’s confused look. “I’m pretty sure someone wrote a whole series of romance novels about it.”

“That hard up for reading material, Wanderer?” an extremely tall, blond man asked. 

“Colbert, always nice to see you,” Leckie said. 

“Christ,” Babe said as he looked up, and up, and up at him. “Let me guess, you come from a long line of giants?”

Colbert didn’t seem at all amused. Babe probably should’ve considered that a warning, but he was well aware that his mouth would get him killed one day.

“What do you little minions want?” Colbert asked.

Leckie patted Babe’s shoulder. “Red Number Two here has to do a report for Luz on the locals. He doesn’t have a dragon to complete his magical set, and since our local dragon is off gallivanting with the fairies—”

“Walt’s a Sidhe,” Colbert said.

“—Speirs would work,” Leckie said. 

Colbert looked at Babe and shook his head. “No. Haldane made it clear no more fires within city walls and this kid’s aura screams _Fight Me_. You want something special in your report, Wanderer?”

“He could use it,” Leckie said.

Babe was going to interject that really, he thought he was repot was fine, and it was the combined stupidity of Shifty and Leckie who were going to get him brunt to a crisp, when he felt that warm calm enter his mind and the pleasant shiver go down his back. He turned in his chair and locked eyes on the door just as Roe entered. 

“Something special just walked in,” Colbert said. 

“Boys,” Roe said as he took Sledge’s empty seat. “I hope no one is planning on burning part of the town down again. I didn’t bring enough salve with me if that’s the case.”

“Last time wasn’t so bad,” Shifty said as he looked at the bottom of his glass. “I ain’t never seen flames turn that color green before.”

“We’ll behave,” Colbert promised. “Speirs and I are just passing through.”

Roe didn’t look pleased as his he turned his head to study Speirs and then went back to Colbert. “Passing through to where?”

“Not your concern, Reaper,” Colbert said.

“And healer,” Babe said. “He’s a healer too.”

Roe smiled at him. “Thank you for that, Edward. So often those who seek destruction forget it. I only hope such souls aren’t passing on information about Haldane’s rule to the wrong parties.”

“We’re on Haldane’s side,” Colbert said. “None of us want a repeat of the last coup attempt. I follow the same road you do.”

“May we both stay on course,” Roe and Shifty said.

Babe leaned into Leckie. “What the _hell_ was that?”

“Damned if I know,” Leckie said. “Maybe you’re next paper should focus on politics.”

“No shit,” Babe said. Roe didn’t take his eyes off Colbert until he spoke with Speirs and they both left the bar. “No shit,” he repeated.


	5. Four

When he was little Babe dreamed of an adventure like _The Goonies_ or joining the Lost Boys. As an adult he never fucking expected that to happen. There was no entrance to Narnia hidden in an old wardrobe and even though he was a preteen when the books came out, he still never got his letter to Hogwarts. It didn’t mean he completely disregarded the possibility of something else beyond the norm; he’d always believe in ghosts and the powers of spirits, but he still never imagined where he was now. There was a dragon shooting darts with a minotaur behind him, another dragon at the bar drinking a pint, Babe’s boss/teacher was playing a magical version of beer pong with his other teacher, and Babe was pretty sure he had a crush on a reaper of souls who moonlighted as a magical healer. Not to mention Babe himself could apparently unlock the magical portal between the worlds.

There were a lot of questions to ask, but after nearly a month of book work and theoretical seminars Babe seemed to be the only one who wanted to know _why_ rather than _how_. Why him? He wasn’t exactly lacking in ego, but Babe knew he wasn’t all that damn special. He could put together an engine block and knew how to bypass most electronic locks—those weren’t exactly the skills needed in a magical land full of fairies.

He had his moments were he still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t all some reaction to a hallucinogenic Bill had slipped in his coffee. Then he looked up to see the multi-colored fire messengers, or Hoosier doing some magic, or Renee transforming into her wolf side, and he realized that whether he could believe it or not, everything here was real. 

Babe squinted and looked at the time with the help of the floating lights in the tavern. It was late and he needed to head back to Sledge’s place. He hadn’t even planned on stopping for a drink tonight. He just needed to decompress for a bit and thought _The Grounded Brigantine_ and its crowd would help distract him. It ended up putting him more on edge as he was reminded of every type of magical people who surrounded him. Babe went to the bar to pay his tab, grateful as always they had a sort of barter system here so he didn’t have to keep borrowing funds from Sledge or Haldane even if they did have the extra money. There were people he needed it even more than he did and Babe liked to earn his keep and pay his own way when he could.

“You’re the new Realmer,” the dragon said. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Babe said. “I’m a trainee at least.” He studied the magical creature before him who looked so deceptively human. “Speirs, right? Are you really a dragon?”

“You want a demonstration?” Speirs asked. He laughed at Babe, and his teeth flashed from a normal pair of pearly whites to a set full of gleaming white daggers. “There be dragons everywhere,* boy, but most especially here. Don’t make the mistake of assuming anyone is harmless, yourself included.”

“Did you really burn down half a town because Roe had a dinner with some dude?” 

Speirs shook his head as smoke seeped out of his nostrils. “Those who know and recognize dragons usually shoot first and save conversations to have over our corpses. Carwood is different. He doesn’t follow the standard protocol for men like him.”

“So the knight rescued the dragon this time?” Babe asked. 

“Carwood is no knight,” Speirs said. “He has far too much honor in him to be something so easily corrupted by the temptation of quests, jewels, and fame. Often I find the simplest of creatures to be the best.” He waved his hand at Captain Stella as she approached. “I’ll cover the Wanderer’s drink tonight. Consider it a welcoming gift, Realmer. May your own tests end in success.”

“Thanks,” Babe said. He wasn’t quite sure if there was a standard protocol for thanking a dragon for their unsolicited advice and a free drink. “Uh, may your flames always meet their target or something.”

Stella covered her smile with her hand while Speirs just slowly blinked at him. 

“Heffron,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Get the hell out of here before I singe your ass,” Speirs said. 

Babe didn’t need to be told twice. He took the extra-long way back to Sledge’s place with his mind still too busy to even think of settling down for the night. He almost fell face first into Sledge’s birdbath when he finally crossed the gate into the yard.

Gene Roe, Healer, Reaper, and all around nice guy who you probably didn’t want to piss off or annoy in his clearly quiet contemplation moment, was propped up against the massive oak tree on the property’s edge. He glowed out here in the dark with a full moon in a clear sky. Babe didn’t know if he should say anything or just leave the man to his thoughts. His clumsy feet and a snapped branch took out the possibility of a stealthy exit. 

Roe looked up at the sound. At first it was if he stared _through_ Babe, before he tilted his head. 

“You okay, Heffron?” he asked. 

“I’m good,” he said. He walked over to Gene and was surprised at the sweet smell in the air around him. Roe had a loaf of bread in his lap and a mug of something at his side. “Midnight snack?”

“Something like that,” Roe said. “The drink’s an offering; the bread’s for me.”

“I wasn’t aware today was some type of holiday,” Babe said as he sat down across from him. He could already feel the wet dew of the grass soaking through his pants, but that was the least of his concerns. Something looked _off_ in Gene; Babe could see it there, lurking right below the surface, even here in the shadows of the night. 

“It’s not, not really,” Roe said. “A friend died on this day many years ago. The mug is full of his favorite tea, though he can only taste it a handful of times a year. He’s a ghost now, you see. He dwells on your side of the divide with his mate.” Roe’s lips twisted into a sad smile. “Sometimes Oracles are wrong.”

“I have a feeling there’s more of a story there,” Babe said. He leaned a bit closer. “Believe it or not, I’m a pretty damn good listener.”

“I appreciate that, Edward.” Roe looked skyward, seeing something Babe couldn’t in the stars. “Time to set it aside for next year. Something’s got you fraught.”

Babe knew Roe was using him to avoid his own thoughts; a better man probably would’ve persisted on his original line of questioning, but Babe always felt people had a right to their privacy. Besides he could really use someone to talk to right now, someone who felt like an actual authority figure that he could _trust_. It’s not that Babe didn’t like Andy, Eddie, Luz, or Skinny; they were all perfectly nice magical beings. Roe, despite his connection to the great beyond, just felt more familiar to Babe.

“The test,” he finally said. “That whole opening the void practical test thing I have in a couple days. I’m just worried that I won’t be able to do it. So many people seem to think I can, and I bet they’ve got a lot riding on me, and I don’t know. Performance anxiety, I guess.”

Roe took a pinch of the bread and chewed on it as he thought. “I suppose if I were you, I’d take faith in the fact that you’ve already completed a jump, on your own, completely untrained. The knowledge how to pierce the Veils is in you, it’s instinct, and you’re capable of it.” He shrugged. “That’s what I’d tell myself at least.”

Babe smiled. “Didn’t know you were that kind of doctor.”

“Needs be,” Roe said. He offered the bread to Babe.

Babe took a small pinch and threw it in his mouth. He was surprised as the sweet taste filled his mouth. 

“Family recipe,” Roe said as he carefully watched him. “The Grants let me use their kitchens when I’m passing through.”

“It’s good,” Babe said. “So, you heal, you guide souls, you bake. What don’t you do, Magical Doctor Roe?”

“Magic,” Roe said with a completely stoic face. 

“Jackass,” Babe muttered as he laughed and shook his head. He stood up and offered his hand. “Come on inside. I won’t hear the end of it from Eugene if I left a guest outside in the dark.”

Roe took his hand, startlingly warm when Babe expected cold from being outside for so long. He looked like he was about to laugh as he studied Babe.

“What?” Babe asked.

“Didn’t no one ever tell you not to take food from Death or to invite it into your home? Folks around here, especially the Wanderers, usually try to ward me off, even make me treat their sick on their doorsteps rather than take me inside.”

“Those people are assholes,” Babe said. “Besides you practically have your own room in this house. Now come inside before you get any more morose and I’ll start having to call you Leckie.”

“Can’t have that,” Roe agreed. 

He gave one last look to the stars before following Babe inside. 

**************

His first Realm Jumper field test was tomorrow and to say Babe was nervous was the biggest fucking understatement of the century. He’d spent the morning pacing Sledge’s house so loudly that even the ever patient and polite Eugene kindly asked him to take it outside. Babe couldn’t hang with Renee or Roe since they’d gone off to the countryside to collect magical herbs or some shit. He’d already spent yesterday pounding out dough for Chuck Grant and his family’s bakery. He didn’t feel like getting a drink. He finally decided to just take a walk. 

“Little Red Riding Hood looks lost,” Leckie said just as Babe passed the old stone markers of the town.

Leckie was propped up against the stones with a leather-bound notebook in his hand. His fingers were stained with ink and he was chewing on something that made a popping sound.

“Gum?” Babe asked.

“I’m minty fresh,” Leckie said. He waved a familiar pack of Wrigley’s _Doublemint_ in front of Babe. “I’ll give you a piece if you give me a story. A little taste of home for some words.”

“You’re a chewing gum dealer now,” Babe said. “If I wasn’t so in need of a smoke I’d tell you to fuck off.” Babe plopped down beside him and held out his hand. “Give me a piece and I’ll talk your ear off.”

“Ah, how the mighty fall when their stress and oral fixation get the better of them,” Leckie teased as he carefully pulled out a silver foil wrapped strip. 

Babe almost snatched it from him, but waited like a good boy for his bribe. He closed his eyes and smiled as they mint taste touched his tongue. He didn’t think he’d ever miss chewing gum. He hadn’t chewed this kind since he was a kid and begged some out of Ma’s purse. He knew the taste would fade soon; right now it was amazing. 

“You really want my story?” Babe asked after he’d taken a moment to savor the taste.

“Humor me. I used to collect Matchbox cars. Now I collect stories,” Leckie said. 

“Stories or histories?”

“Bit of both,” Leckie admitted. 

Babe leaned back into the crumbling stone as he watched the sunlight catch on the few greys in Leckie’s hair. The man was focused on his questions, a knowing curve to his lips that seemed certain of Babe’s answers before he even opened his mouth. Babe knew Leckie came from a similar background, though it was obvious Leckie came from more money and lacked the sense of family and community that was an inherent part of Babe’s identity. All Leckie knew about such a close community came from that semi-detached academic view that lacked any real personality. Babe didn’t have no Ivy League education like the professor before him, but he knew a thing of two. It was time to take Leckie to a different kind of school.

Babe thought of his great-grandmother, her hunched back and her worked-weathered hands, forever stained and damaged form years of harsh cleaning products and washing other people’s homes. He thought of his grandma and the wrinkles around his eyes from too much smiling, and her long, artistic fingers. She’d loved music and literature and ended up working in a factory instead. He thought of his mother, coming home exhausted from ten or twelve hours on her feet working in the retirement home. He thought of his niece, Viola, and how far her future would be from what her great-great grandma had started. Babe came from a long line of hardworking people, devoted to their family and community, and he knew that even though they had similar backgrounds, Leckie never grew up with the suspicions, the rituals, and the inherent discipline of Babe’s whole family.

“You would think my family should be full of overly-practical people; the hardworking meat-and-potatoes working class family-focused group that we are. We grew up with some pretty fantastical beliefs now that I think about it. My grandma used to ‘lock’ us into bed, you know, with an old skeleton key. She said it had something to do with keeping the Old Folk away from us. Hell of a lot of good that did, right?”

Leckie nodded, making notes in his hand-bound journal, unmindful of the ink stained fingers that now started to taint its red leather cover. It didn’t seem to concern him that he was ruining another person’s hard work; though Babe supposed journals were meant to be ruined. 

“So Grandma was just off the boat?” Leckie asked.

“Second generation,” Babe corrected. “We were part of the local Irish Society though, raised around all the new arrivals. Not that it’s very easy to forget where my family comes from.”

“So not just the local church group to reinforce your culture, then?”

“Family above all,” Babe said. “And by family I mean the whole damn community.”

“Takes a village to raise a Babe.”

Babe sucked some air between his teeth. “You’re a funny, funny man, Leckie.”

Leckie grinned like he was the cleverest motherfucker in the whole town. “So my many admirers tell me.”

“What about you?” Babe asked. “What kind of community made a Leckie?”

“Baby of a big family. No one really had time for me when I came around. My next closest sibling was already halfway through college when I entered high school. We aren’t—weren’t— close.”

“That why you decided not to go home? You think no one misses you back there? Not even for a quick realm jump visit to pop in and let them know you’re still alive? Wait—how’d you really get here anyway?” Babe asked.

“That is the million dollar question. Went to sleep drunk—maybe—woke up here. Not quite sure how it happened.”

“Maybe you wished for it or something, and thus it was so.”

“ _Thus it was so_?” Leckie scoffed. 

“Hell, dude, I ended up here because fairy rings. It’s not outside the realm of possibility that some dream magic brought you over. More things on heaven and earth, and all that bullshit. Maybe you drunkenly wished to Zoltar Speaks’ Jersey Shore cousin or something.”

Leckie frowned. “That’s actually more plausible than half of my theories.”

Babe nodded. “This is all I’m saying.” He looked at the notebook in Leckie’s hands and wondered about all the stories there. “I still can’t believe you didn’t at least send your family a note.”

Leckie didn’t seem bothered as he shrugged it off. “It seems better this way. I was going to go home because I’m not _from_ here. I was so focused on the idea of going back because it was what I was supposed to do, even if I didn’t really want it. I was obsessed with returning because home was familiar, even if I was fucking miserable. I’m where I’m supposed to be now, I know that.” Leckie tapped his pen on his knee. “How did this become more about me than you?”

“No one expects to get played by this face,” Babe said. He popped his gum—a habit he hated in others, but felt good right now—and stared at the open land in front of them. “I have to go out there tomorrow and try to open a hole in space and time. Everyone thinks I can do it, no worries, and I just don’t get it. I’m your everyday guy, Leckie. I’m not Harry Potter or some shit.’

“Of course not,” Leckie said. “With that hair you’re obviously a Weasley.”

Babe rolled his eyes. “Jackass.”

Leckie laughed at him, the sound was rough yet joyful, like he’d surprised himself with it. 

“Look, Babe, it ain’t shit, okay? If you can’t do it now, maybe you can in a few weeks. I’ve got faith in you though, kiddo. You came to a magical land and your very first actions were to curse and give a royal prince the finger. And around these parts? Hell, Heffron, I’d say pretty damn average is actually exceptional special.”

Babe shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah, okay, in a fight between me and a dragon, you’d put money down on me?”

“Since you got a Reaper in your corner? Hell yes,” Leckie said. “It’s funny, really. I’ve never heard of Roe lingering around Merrymec for this long. I wonder why that is.”

“Not the time, Leckie.”

Leckie grinned. “Bet you’re not thinking about your test anymore now.”

Babe grabbed a handful of grass and threw it at Leckie’s head who only ducked, brushed the dirt off his clothes, and took up his pen again. 

**************

Babe couldn’t eat his breakfast, even though Shifty had found actual cinnamon from somewhere and made French toast, or it’s extremely close cousin. It smelled so good, but Babe’s stomach still turned in that way that meant it was only going to be water for the foreseeable future. 

“You should eat something,” Sledge urged. 

“I think it’ll be better for all of us if I try this on an empty stomach,” Babe said. He looked at the large clock in Eugene’s kitchen and knew it was time to leave. “I gotta go.”

“ _We_ ,” Shifty corrected. “You didn’t think we’d really leave you to do this on your own.”

Eugene smiled as he looked at something outside the window. “Renee and Roe have returned just in time. I knew they weren’t going to miss today.”

Babe put his head in his hands. “Oh great, I get an audience for my massive failure. I get possible collateral damage if I make something go boom. This is just fucking perfect.”

It felt like he was leading a procession as easily a quarter of the town followed him into the woods. Skinny stood in a clearing waiting for them, a man Babe hadn’t met yet at his side. 

“Quite the entourage,” Sisk said. “Look at you, all popular.”

“Luz brought something that smells like popcorn,” Babe complained. 

“Well, you’re the best entertainment they have around here when Hoosier isn’t publically blowing shit up.” Sisk turned to the man beside him. “Heffron, this is Vest. He’s basically our Head of Acquisitions. You’re just trying to opening a portal today, but if you were doing a full Jump, Vest here would set you up with funds, an alias if required, and a list of thing we need you to get or bring over.”

“So Realm Jumpers are really glorified bike couriers,” Babe said. He frowned. “It would’ve helped if someone said that from the start.”

“Acquisitions is just one part of it,” Vest said. He patted Babe on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Babe said. He took a deep breath and smiled as a pleasant breeze blew through the forest. “Nice place you got here.”

“It works,” Skinny said. “You ready?”

“Nope,” Babe admitted. “Don’t think I ever will be. It’s not exactly the kind of thing I have previous experience to fall back on.”

“No, it’s not,” Skinny agreed. “Here’s the thing about opening the portals, piercing the veils, whathaveyou. You can’t just snap your fingers it make it happen.” Skinny snapped his own fingers and nothing changed. “You have to picture something that will help you think of opening the Veil, like a door, or pushing a curtain, or that friggin; TARDIS.”

“You couldn’t have told me that before?”

“If we did you would’ve spent the past few weeks worrying about picturing the _right_ thing. Now you can just go with your instincts,” Skinny said.

Babe couldn’t really argue with that point. “So I should think of the opening like a port key?” he asked.

“Exactly,” Skinny said.

“You’ve read _Harry Potter_?” Leckie asked from the crowd.

Eugene laughed as he looked at Babe. “You could be a Weasley.”

“Redheads in glass houses shouldn’t throw joke stones,” Babe said. That was twice in a week he’d had a Weasley joke. It was time to fire back, especially when it came from Sledge. 

Babe exchanged a nod with Roe, a smile with Renee, and turned back to the empty clearing in front of him. He straightened his shoulders and thought of reaching for his mother’s favorite potted plant. He kept that picture in his mind as he asked Skinny the really important question.

“So aside from the whole mental picture I’m doing now, how does this test thing really work?”

“We try it and hopefully you don’t die,” Skinny said.

Babe could’ve honestly punched him if it wasn’t for the crowd gathered behind them. “Hell of a plan you got there. I feel the confidence just pouring out of you.”

“Kid, we wouldn’t be out here if I didn’t think you could do it. You got the aura for it.”

“Aura? I have the _aura_? Seriously?”

“Don’t make me smack you. Now get over there and think about punching a hole through space and time.”

Babe glared at Skinny as he walked over to the center of an unmarked circle. He closed his eyes because it seemed the type of thing you were supposed to close your eyes for. He could feel the smile cross his face as he thought of his mother’s small balcony garden. It was all they had and she made it as green as possible. Viola had painted a pot in art class, a lavender base with light blue purple sponge dabs, and Ma treasured it from the day little Vi brought it home. He could hear the sounds of the city below him, taste the salt and pollution in the air, and smell his mother’s pot roast cooking in the kitchen behind him. If he just reached out he could touch the clay pot and be back home. 

Babe extended his hand and felt something burst forth. There was a loud rush of cheers and clapping coming from behind him. He opened his eyes and turned around to see Sledge giving him a thumbs up while Shifty and Leckie whistled at him. Gene Roe gave him an approving nod while Renee blew him a kiss. He turned to the side where Skinny and Vest looked almost impressed. Babe turned back and looked at the small, pulsing blue and violet light before him. If he leaned closer, if he just squinted and looked harder, he swore he could see his street back home.

“Good job,” Sisk said. He patted Babe’s shoulder. “Now shut it down. Don’t drain yourself trying to maintain it for too long. Baby steps, Heffron. We’ll get there.”

Babe figured if picturing his home made him open the portal, picturing something here would help him close it. He shut his eyes again and thought of his favorite chair in Eugene Sledge’s home, of the closeted comfort of Luz’s tower office, of the Watch Keeper’s headquarters, and the Grounded Brigantine, and leaning against crumbling stone walls while chewing gum, and of a heavy oak tree and shared sweet bread. 

The portal closed with a loud _whoosh_. 

**************

The one thing everyone forgot to really tell him about the constant opening and closing of the voids was the required doctor’s visits that came as a trainee. Not that Babe was complaining, not at all, but he still felt awkward as he sat in what was basically Gene Roe’s kitchen for a surprise check-up.

“You going to tell me to turn my head and cough?” Babe asked. 

Gene’s brow wrinkled at the quip before he shook his head and stepped forward. He hovered his hands over Babe’s body, not touching, but a soothing trickle of purple light occupied the space between them. 

“You’re not putting a spell on me, are you?” Babe joked.

“Consider it a—what did Robert call it—a diagnostic? I want to know Vest didn’t push you too far in today’s training.”

“I feel fine,” Babe said. A little winded, yeah, but he figured that came with the whole trying to magically conquer space and time and shit.

“There are wounds even you can’t see on your own soul,” Gene said.

He sounded so serious Babe had to break the tension “I forged my chains in life,” he quoted.

Gene’s lips thinned. “You are aware Webster had Dickens’ collective works brought to us.” His eyes flashed blue for a moment when Babe laughed at his fake anger. “It’s not a mortal thing,” he said. “It’s not about a lack of something inside you. It’s more the cost of power it takes to tear those openings in the Veil. It’s a gift, yes. It still comes with a price.”

“You trying to say I’m used up, Doc?”

Gene’s lips quirked at the nickname and Babe almost whooped with something that felt like victory. 

“There are ways to replenish you,” Gene said.

“Is that an invitation to see your magical well?”

Gene shook his head and dropped his hands, the pulsing light vanished as he walked over to his bag of medicine. “You’re a mystery, Edward,” he said as he sorted through his salts and salves.

“ _I’m_ the mystery?” Babe laughed. “You might want to get your head checked, Doc.”

Gene’s lips quirked again and Babe had to stop himself from reaching out to touch and taste that hint of a smile.

It wasn’t fair. If they were on his side of the magical world, Babe would be all over Gene. He was beautiful, that much was obvious. He was the friggin’ definition of _grace_ and Babe damn near craved his presence. It had started out as just wanting that little sense of calm that came whenever Gene was close and ended with Babe asking Renee where Gene stayed when he wasn’t in Merrymec.

Which was why Babe had volunteered to go to the Doc and get his check-up while also helping to organize dried herbs in a cottage in the middle-of-fucking-middle-earth-nowhere. If they were back in Philadelphia, Babe would know just what to do, how to make that first move. Instead, he was over here, sitting across from a _being_ who would outlive dirt, Twinkies, Peeps, and cockroaches and who apparently had an unlucky knack for making mortals fall in love with him or something. 

Christ, he was sounding like one of Ma’s romance novels. He really didn’t want to don a ripped bodice.

“You are quiet today,” Gene said.

Babe didn’t really have an answer he was willing to give. He’d slept in Gene’s guest bedroom last night after the long journey out here. He’d spent the night staring at the ceiling, asking himself what the hell he was thinking, and trying not to let the silence get to him. 

He shrugged. “No noise around here to distract me and that makes me think more. I never thought I’d get _less_ sleep outside of the city. I miss the electric hum, you know.” He shook his head at those words. “Well, I suppose you don’t.”

Gene put aside his shears and placed a warm hand on Babe’s arm. “I went to your world once.” His eyes were wide, as if he surprised himself in making such a confession. “I fear I’m not compatible with it. The forests even, I could feel the poison seeped into their roots. Death was everywhere. The electric hum, as you call it, was distracting. It made me feel like I was being called to war. It was different from how my father described it, though I now realize just how quickly your world advanced over two centuries.”

“An industrial revolution and technological advancement for the history books,” he joked. 

Gene quietly laughed. He removed his hand and Babe tried not to shiver at the sudden cold that overtook his body. 

“Come, I will take you back to Merrymec. You look in need of a decent rest.”

He’d only been here a few months, but even Babe knew better than to argue with Gene when he had that look on his face. Honestly, it was probably for the best. He’d end up making a complete ass out of himself if he stayed here any longer. Still, he’d come to help Gene with a job and he’d do it.

Bill always did tell him he had more balls than brains.

“How about we finish at least sorting half of those herbs, I try to take a nap, and then we see if I need to return to Merrymec?” 

Gene looked ready to argue, and Babe tried his best pleading eyes. 

“Fine,” Gene said. “You start feeling even a bit sleepy though Edward, you go lay down. I won’t have a patient collapse under my care if it can be avoided.”

“I promise not to tarnish your reputation, Doc,” Babe said. 

“Mm-hmm,” Gene muttered. He handed Babe an unsorted basket and one of the magical tablet things. “Hover the tablet over your chosen sprig and it’ll tell you what it is. Pots are back there.”

Gene didn’t have a tablet and he was probably going to work three times as fast as Babe, still Babe had at least one pile that Gene wouldn’t be up all night sorting through.

It was barely helpful, but it was the least he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This verse was inspired by many, many pieces of literature, movies, tv shows, and video games. One of those many influences was Discworld, and since the world had to say goodbye to Mr. Partchett last week so DEATH could embrace him like an old friend, I wanted to include a small tribute. What Speirs is semi-quoting here comes from Foreword in _The Color of Magic_ :
> 
>  
> 
> _There are no maps. You can't map a sense of humor. Anyway, what is a fantasy map beyond which There Be Dragons? On the Discworld we know that There Be Dragons Everywhere. They might not all have scales or forked tongues, but They Be Here all right, grinning and trying to sell you souvenirs._


	6. Five

Babe knew how libraries worked, or at least he thought he did until he was faced with the actual towered stacks of Merrymec’s library. He had questions about Roe, and Healers, and Reapers, and no one was giving him a straight answer. He swore to god Shifty had quoted him something in iambic pentameter the last time Babe had asked about Reapers and their laws. 

When Babe tried to approach one of the librarians here they merely pointed him to a section with an arcing scrollwork pattern that said _Welcome Wanderers_. So far he’d found the types of books he expected if he was checking his local branch of the public library. He tried not to feel defeated. Babe figured there had to be some kernels of truth in these familiar titles though. If there two worlds had millennia of crossover then maybe, just maybe, some of the facts of Reapers over here had become part of the lore back home. 

If nothing else it’d give him an excuse to read _The Sandman_ again. 

“You are a brave man.”

“Fuck,” Babe muttered as he jumped at the sound of Eddie’s voice. The books in his arms dropped to the floor. “Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?”

Eddie waved a hand and the books restacked themselves. His movements were as fluid as water. Apparently the Sirens didn’t just command the element; they even took on its very nature.

“I always thought you Wanderers were so timid and then you and Leckie arrived on our shores.”

“Bite me,” Babe muttered.

Eddie’s smile was devious. “That statement could be taken as an actual invitation over here, Heffron, especially among my people. Lucky for you, Aindrea would have my head if ever I strayed.”

“Why do I have a feeling that’s not all he would have?”

He must’ve imagined the blush he saw blooming across Eddie’s cheeks because ancient mythological creatures did not blush.

“He is slightly possessive,” Eddie admitted. “Then again so am I.” He pointed to the street outside where Gene was passing out sachets to the townspeople. “To be a Lover of Death, to desire that position, it is a noble and brave thing. So few are willing or able to see the strength and beauty inherent in their position. All they ever see is the fear.”

Babe turned from his stack of books to study Gene. Gene had come back to Merrymec with Babe, had stayed with them under Sledge’s roof, and had become a part of their routine, and even though his presence had become more normal among the townsfolk there was still a noticeable space between him and them. It felt like a kick in the gut watching Gene be so gentle with the local children while more than a few adults gave him a wide berth.

“He’s not only Death,” Babe said. He didn’t know much about Gene’s true nature, but that one phrase from their first meeting stay trued. Babe knew it to be true.

“No,” Eddie agreed, “but most still default to the worst of beliefs. They only accept Gene when they need a healer. All other times he is not invited into their homes. Often they are warded against him. He and his kind are cursed by folk, even when death is the most welcome of cures.”

Eddie circled around him, nose wrinkling as if he was sniffing the air. 

“Can you please respect the personal space cushion?” Babe asked.

Eddie ignored him. “There is something different about you. Perhaps you are more than just brave. You may even be worthy.”

Babe tried _really_ hard not to lose his temper. The last thing he needed to do was piss off the were-bear librarian. “Thanks for that striking vote of confidence, Eddie, really. Your pep talks give me that nice sense of certainty I crave. Now, can you please give me room so I can get back to work?”

“From what I was able to discern you weren’t doing much work before.” He pointedly looked at the window. “Though I will leave you for now.” He trailed a finger down the stack of books. “This is pointless, you know, what you have here. These are the words and lessons you already know. You need to go beyond.”

Babe knew that the Sirens weren’t exactly the most obvious group of creatures but he was getting really tired of the riddles and innuendo. 

“You want to tell me what that means.”

“No,” Eddie said, the mirth obvious in his eyes.

Honestly, the cleaning sprites and self-propelled magical vehicles, and the ripping holes in space and time didn’t freak him out over here. It was the people like Eddie, Andy, and Shifty, who acted like they knew every little thing. For all Babe could guess, they did. 

Eddie’s face changed again, dark swirling marks appeared on his skin before they faded away. 

“Don’t hurt him,” Eddie said. “You’ve given him hope even if he denies it. Don’t hurt him by letting him sacrifice this chance.”

“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” Babe said. He laughed to himself. “I’m used to those odds.” He recalled Eddie’s words from earlier, the phrase he had used. “Love of Death, is that like, an official title?”

“It is reserved for the one who walks beside the Reaper, in all worlds,” Eddie said.

“So an official title,” Babe said. “I wonder how that gets granted.”

Eddie’s lips curled up in a smile. “You ask,” he said. 

 

**************

“Your concentration is for shit,” Shifty said. He threw a handful of grass at Babe’s head. “Wake-up, Red.”

The blades of grass turned into something like butterflies as they took to the wind and flew over Babe’s head. 

Babe couldn’t deny that he was distracted. Gene had left that morning to visit one of the Siren communities near the Eastern Sea. Babe kept thinking about the lack of Gene’s presence around him, about that background comfort Gene brought that thrived in his mind. He hadn’t been the best of students for Shifty. 

“My current question is what exactly a Goodfellow is supposed teach me about Realm Jumping,” Babe said. He watched the swirl of butterflies race towards the sun where they turned into a phoenix before disappearing into the clouds. “Neat trick.”

“One of the first I perfected,” Shifty said. “Today is just about learning to concentrate and that doesn’t require Skinny, Vest, Luz, or Varro to help you. I’m good at distractions.”

“Varro?” Babe asked. He’d never heard of him before.

“Wolf-maiden’s mate,” Shifty said. He gave Babe that mysterious smile that promised mischief and a hangover in the future. “You’ll meet him.”

“And where is this Varro now?” Babe asked.

“On a mission I suppose,” Shifty said. “He doesn’t really come into these parts unless Aurelia has a meeting or Eddie summons him.”

“Eddie, not Andy?” Babe asked. He remained baffled by the subtle politics at play here. “They really are a power couple.”

“More powerful than the Elders imagined I believe. They never expected it to be a love match, and it wasn’t at the start, but all Sirens know how to make a spark grow.” Shifty smiled at him, utterly inhuman, and tossed a blue flower at Babe’s head. It turned into a raincloud.

Babe batted it away before it could pour down on him. That was the point of today’s lesson, to see beyond the illusions and glamours people used to hide what they were or become and create something they were not. Shifty had a knack for changing the shapes of objects, even making solid things out of thin air. He was a far more entertaining teacher than Vest, who had tried to drill the value of various legal tenders into Babe’s head over teaching him anything about control or action.

Babe wanted to master the mechanics of this all before he started worrying about the exchange rate of magical dimes. 

The rain cloud came back and dumped a couple gallons of water on Babe before he could concentrate enough to get it to fuck off to wherever magical rain clouds went.

“You already know how to do this,” Shifty said. “We noticed it when you first came here, the way you’d stop and stare at Eddie, Roe, and me. You see what’s under our projections even when we know they’re not failing.”

“It’s just like a blink,” Babe said. “Like I see it out of the corner of my eye and then it’s gone when I blink. Right now you look like I presume you want the world to see you.”

“So look harder,” Shifty said. “And honestly it’s not that we _want_ to carry the glamours all the time, it’s just that we have to for our own safety. You think people are scared of Roe now, imagine if he went around like his eyes are naturally.”

Babe frowned. “What do you mean? They’re already all dark and deep and abyss like. You’re telling me they get more intense than that? I still can’t figure out if they’re blue or black.”

Shifty laughed. “Like I said, you already knew how to see through the glamours.”

“That’s how Roe’s eyes always look,” Babe said, completely confused.

“Between the worlds and to you, yes,” Shifty said. He grinned as he manipulated another handful of grass. “Now let’s see if you can dodge these.”

Babe laughed as a swarm of green hummingbirds came at him.

**************

Babe sat at the Grounded Brigantine with a good old notebook and a graphite pencil. He had to give up his iPod for the new supplies. He still felt like he got the better deal; it wasn’t like he could recharge the thing over here. He hoped the Realm Jumpers had a field day with it. 

He’d given up on researching Reapers from the literature he already knew; Eddie was right, it was pretty much bullshit. So after a couple sleepless nights of listening to Roe pace the floorboards of his guest room, Babe decided it was finally time to dig into all the research on Death from this side of the divide. His only problem was he didn’t know _how_ to do a decent library search over here. If he tried to walk through the maze of Merrymec’s stacks, he’d never be heard from again.

Granted, talking to Snafu, the Reader of the Last Thought and kind of an undertaker, would probably solve a lot of his problems, but the bastard always managed to slither away before Babe could pin him down. It seemed awfully fitting that he had a ton of out of town travel right after Eddie found Babe in the library. 

He jumped when a hand grasped his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he said, clutching his chest. “Are you all trying to give me a fucking heart attack?”

“Sorry,” Hoosier said. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “I tried calling your name, but you didn’t answer. Just making sure you weren’t in a thrall. We got a few dragons here tonight.” 

“Don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Mr. Wizard. I’ve already met Puff the Magic.”

Hoosier tilted his head and frowned. “I thought you and Leckie came from different birthplaces.”

“South Philly is not North Jersey.”

“Yet you have near exact reactions and retorts.”

“The Northeast is a tough crowd.” He looked up at the bar where two men sat, grey smoke curling out of their nostrils. “Speirs is back. Who’s the tiny guy?”

Hoosier’s lips twisted into something that might’ve passed for a smile under other circumstances and on different faces. “Ray. He’s more a garden lizard than a majestic dragon; a loud little pest who clings to Colbert when he’s not with Walt. You should go introduce yourself.”

“Pass,” Babe said. 

“Ah, new kid’s already lost his taste for adventure,” Leckie said. He had a tray of mugs in his hand and passed a drink to Babe and Hoosier before taking the final one for himself. He squeezed a chair in between Babe and Hoosier and tugged Babe’s notebook out from under his hands.

“You could’ve just asked,” Babe said as Leckie flipped through his notes.

“I could’ve,” Leckie agreed. He squinted at the pages in the low light of the tavern. “Is this Emily Dickinson?”

“ _Because I could not stop for Death_ ,” Babe confirmed. “I was trying to do some research, but I only found the section containing our literature.”

“Ah, so you do plan to court the ever elusive Reaper Doc,” Leckie said. “Webster only stocked that section with poetry and fiction. You wouldn’t have found anything of value.”

“And I didn’t,” Babe agreed. “I just remembered that poem from school. I always liked it.”

“Of course you did,” Leckie said, for once no hint of mockery to his words. “Drink up and I’ll take you for a proper tour.”

“No making deals with the Sidhe this time,” Hoosier said.

“Oh, this is something much more dangerous than whatever I planned,” Leckie said. He ran a hand over the back of Hoosier’s neck and leaned close to whisper something so low Babe couldn’t hear. “I promise,” Leckie said as he pulled away. 

Babe left them to their privacy as he gathered the empty mugs and tray and returned them to the bar. Captain Stella blew him a kiss in thanks. The two dragons watched him closely, Speirs slightly nodding his head in acknowledgment while the smaller one scoffed and blew a smoke ring at Babe. Babe just rolled his eyes and waited for Leckie to finish his conversation with Hoosier.

They didn’t really talk as they walked to the library. The sun was starting to set and Babe was distracted by watching the city center close down for the evening and the night-time businesses awake from their own slumber. There was a vibrant nightlife in Merrymec, from late-night cafes for the scholars to the sprites who worked with the stars and the suppliers who collected the flowers that only bloomed under moonlight. Right now Merrymec stood at a transition period; the swing shift when these two worlds met. 

Babe lingered on the library tower’s steps as he took in one last glimpse of it all. 

“My solution to everything is _go to the library_ ,” Leckie said as they stood in front of a long line of stacks.

“Of course it is,” Babe muttered. They’d had to go up no less than three winding staircases to get here and then pass through a door that looked like it was made out of impenetrable iron. 

“The books won’t hurt you, Babe.”

“Really makes you miss Google,” Babe said as he stared at row after row of books.

Leckie shrugged. “This place has its own way. You just got to know how to ask.”

“And how do I do that, Professor Leckie?”

He smirked at Babe. “Let me show you, Mr. Heffron.” They walked deeper into the cavern of stacks. “You just have to know _how_ to ask,” he repeated.

Babe didn’t think Leckie meant that like it sounded. There was no way the books themselves could be sentient.

“Some of them are spelled to be almost alive,” Leckie said. “Some are made of siren skin, dragon hide, or a leathered mermaid’s tail. Those are the most ancient of the texts. They’re not exactly open to the general public. What we have here is more a highly advanced sorting system with the help of a few sentient spirits. Don’t worry, Pagemaster, the books aren’t going to send you to whole new worlds except for the ones in your imagination.”

“You’re pretty good at this library thing, Professor,” Babe said. 

“Books are the one things that always make sense to me, no matter where I am.” Leckie gestured to the ceiling-high stacks around them. “Ask your question, be as specific as possible, and don’t forget to be polite. Trust me, you don’t want to take a massive tome to the head because you forgot your manners.”

“Uh, okay,” Babe said. That flutter in his stomach started, the one he always got when it came to public speaking, and he felt his face go hot even though it was only Leckie, books, and unseen magical spirits around him. He always sucked as this center of attention shit.

“Uh, hi, spirits and books and, uh, the world,” Babe said just in case anyone else was listening. “I’m looking for information on the lives of Reapers and Healers. Uh—anything of interest about their lifespans, job requirements, birth rites and all that, if you have anything. Please,” he hastily added as he heard a book roughly come off its shelf. 

“Told you,” Leckie said.

A large stack appeared at Babe’s feet. “Thanks again,” Babe told the room. 

Leckie helped him drag the books back to the designated work area. 

“Am I even going to be able to read these?” Babe asked. “What language are they written in?”

“The translator spell implant thing helps do all that,” Leckie said.

“But I never got that,” Babe said. 

“Yet you can perfectly communicate with everyone here,” Leckie said. He picked a random book from the stack and shoved it at Babe. “Open it and tell me what you see.”

The words and letters weren’t anything Babe had seen in his life, yet something flickered and the page changed to perfectly clear English before fading back to its original script. Still, somehow, Babe understood the meaning.

“What the fuck?” he asked, a little too loudly for a library.

“You see English right,” Leckie said.

“No,” Babe said. “Well, sort of. It comes and it goes, but I understand it anyway.”

Leckie frowned. “What the fuck?” he asked.

“You two want to take that language elsewhere?” one of the librarians asked.

Leckie grinned at the man. “Were-bear Jay. We’re sorry. Just a little mystery on top of all the others. We could use your advice actually. Babe here wants to learn more about creatures like Roe. What book would you recommend best of what we have here?”

Jay glanced over the stack and pulled out two books. “These two are both more clinical studies of Reapers and Healers. The one in the Realmer’s hands is probably the best. It was written by Roe’s grandmother.”

“I’d say that’s a winner,” Leckie said.

Babe shook his head. “I don’t know if I should read it. This is probably personal family history and I _know_ Gene. I don’t think that’s a line I should cross.”

“So ask him if you can,” Leckie said. “You’re currently holding a book with all your answers. I don’t know if I could turn my back on such a great primary source.”

“I guess that’s why I’m not the research type,” Babe said. “I don’t have to know everything.”

“I just need to know if you want to check it out or have me hold it for a period of five days,” Jay said. 

Babe looked at the book in his hands and wondered if Gene even knew if it was out there. Maybe he’d want to read it. Maybe he’d want it destroyed. Either way Babe figured he deserved to know it was out there for anyone who knew how to ask the right questions. 

“Yeah, we’ll take it,” Babe said. 

**************

Renee’s laughter filled the field beyond Gene’s little house. She was dancing away from Shifty’s magical cloud of snow, an impossible thing in the bright sunlight that was already causing freckles to pop-up all over Babe’s skin. There was no sign of the wolf in her movements, only a young woman letting herself be carefree removed from the boundaries of Merrymec and its society’s constraints. 

Babe had spent the day with burning eyes. Hoosier had doused him with something before the journey into the countryside that was meant to remove whatever natural immunity Babe had to the stronger magic in the air as they got closer to the wild woods. It wasn’t the magic itself that hurt Babe’s eyes; it was the fact that no one’s glamour was staying put. The magic essential in each of these people he’d come to care for lit up the air around them. Renee was a calm, beautiful sky blue. Shifty was an earthier mixture of green and brown. Gene—Gene just shone. He was a blindingly bright spot as he moved around them, using an outdoor press to get some sort of oil out of myriad of different fruits and leaves. The air around them was thick with the scent and Babe couldn’t stop watching him, the physical power in his arms as they worked the press, and the mystical kind that dashed around him in flares of royal purple. 

Even Sledge, a Wanderer just like Babe, carried a hint of light green around him. Babe looked down at his own hands. All he saw was his pale skin and a few new freckles. There was no hint of magic on him, and he tried not to be disappointed about that. He just thought there should be _something_ there with the whole busting through the barriers between worlds thing going on. 

Three days ago he’d successfully maintained an open connection for a full ten minutes. He’d followed it up by staying awake long enough to reach Sledge’s home before he collapsed and slept for twelve hours, but still he thought something obvious should’ve changed about him. 

However, he was still regular old Babe, even if he now really had great power and great responsibility and all that bullshit. 

“Are you ever going to read that book?” Sledge asked. He was hidden under a massive oak tree, resting his head against its trunk. “You’ve been carrying it around for two weeks now.”

“It’s a personal memoir,” Babe said. “Roe’s grandmother wrote it. It seems like the kind of thing I should ask permission for before I just go flipping through someone else’s family history. It’s different when it’s someone you know.”

Sledge laughed at him, a soft, deep thing that made Babe smile to hear it. “Heffron, you’ve had how many endless hours to ask the man and you still haven’t? He’s not going to say no.”

“You can’t know that,” Babe said.

Sledge just turned his gaze to the tree branches above him. “Babe, I don’t think there’s anything you could ask for that Gene Roe wouldn’t give you. I don’t know what he saw when he was poking around in that head of yours, but whatever it was he clearly liked it. I’ve been here for years and I’ve never seen him spend so much time in Merrymec. I consider the man a friend and he’s never spent so many nights in my home before you.”

“I think it’s just the Realm Jumper thing,” Babe said. “He worries about me pushing too far too fast.”

“Bullshit,” Sledge said. “I don’t know why you’re trying to make it all less than it so clearly is. You deserve something good, you both do. Stop wasting the time you have with each other and go talk to the man.”

Babe turned his attention to where Gene stood, paused in his work, to watch Renee and Shifty laugh. There was a wistful look on his face, a longing for something Babe didn’t quite understand yet. 

“Did he and Renee ever?” 

“Not my place to say really,” Sledge said. “Wolves have mates though. I don’t know if it’s a pre-determined thing or what. They’re meant for each other, that’s clear, just not in a romantic way. I don’t know how it is for people like Roe. Maybe that book you’re carrying around has some answers. You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”

“I have asked. No one’s given me a straight answer,” Babe argued.

“Yeah, but you haven’t asked _him_ ,” Sledge said. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and leaned back into the roots of the tree. “Go talk to him.”

“Now?” Babe asked.

“Now,” Sledge said.

***************

It was deep in the night by the time Babe finally got the urge to ask Gene about his grandmother’s book. He didn’t know why it’d taken him so long to ask, really. He wasn’t exactly the cowardly type, but he couldn’t stand the idea of offending Gene. 

“Edward?” Gene asked. His nose was red from the cool night air, something so unbelievably human on someone so inhuman. “Are you well?” Gene dropped his gaze to the scarred wooden floor. “You’ve been nervous here, or around me. I know it can be unsettling to—”

“The death thing?” Babe asked. “Yeah, that’s not a problem. You should see the Stations of the Cross they made us stand under in church. That shit’ll leave an impression on you, especially when you see it from such a young age. It doesn’t bother me, Gene. Really. That’s not it.”

Babe showed the book he had in his hands. “I decided to do some research because the Healer and Reaper thing, well, I’m curious and I know I hate to talk about myself, and you’ve probably got better things to do than listen to me babble. Anyway, Leckie helped in the library and Were-bear Jay said this was the best one. It’s your grandmother’s memoir and I just didn’t want to read it without asking you first. And I didn’t really know how to ask that without sounding like an asshole, so yeah, that’s that.”

“Next time just ask,” Gene said. His fingers brushed against Babe’s wrist as he touched the spine of the book. “She wrote it for people to read. That’s the point of memoirs, from what I understand.”

“I don’t believe in free for all access to the history of someone I know,” Babe said.

“There’s that loyalty so deep inside your soul,” Gene said, his face full of amusement even with such a small hint of a smile. “I formally give you my permission to read it. She would’ve liked you.”

“Yeah?” Babe asked. He ducked his head, something like happiness causing his face to flush in the night.

“She might’ve tried to steal you away,” Gene admitted. “She always adored the souls like yours, the ones that burn so bright in the bodies that never realize how great they are.”

“I’m just me,” Babe said.

“You are a glorious thing,” Gene said. His fingers traced a blue vein clear under Babe’s pale skin. “I almost don’t want you to know that so you’ll keep being as you are. You’re destined for so much.”

“Never was much into that destiny thing,” Babe said. “I like the idea of free will.”

“Whichever path you choose will touch many,” Gene said. “I hope you remember us wherever the chosen road may take you.” He stepped back and looked at the sky. “It’s late, Edward. You should get some sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Babe joked. “Besides, I’ve got this book to read.”

“Then the least I can do is make you something to drink,” Gene said. 

**************

_Mates_. Reapers and Healers, like Wolves and Sirens, had mates. They were pretty serious bonds, deeper than any type of marriage Babe knew of, and with the Reapers especially it seemed to be predestined. The Reapers recognized the very souls of their mates once they met them, and their mates would walk at their side even after the world had ended or some poetical shit like that. 

“I’m fucked,” Babe said. 

A whole group of them were gathered on the river banks to watch Eddie play with Bessie, his own personal lake monster, while Hoosier practiced his more explosive spells far from Prince Haldane’s office walls. 

Skinny had shown up out of the blue with Alley, some sort of magical thief Sidhe type, and Lena, a dryad, who was there to teach Babe how to listen to the voices of the trees. Another day, another magical mystery tour. At least this one came with a nice lunch break and a show.

“Roe has a mate out there,” Babe said. “I’m completely fucked.”

Sledge nodded solemnly. “ _Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love_ ,” he quoted.

“Oh fuck you,” Babe said with a laugh. “Now I want some pb&j. I’ve found that yellow stuff they’re trying to pass off as grape jelly here but no one has anything like peanut butter.”

“Well you’re definitely not getting one of the sandwiches I brought now,” Grant said as he hugged his basket closer.

“Don’t let the poor boy starve,” Lena said. 

“Are you sure you’re reading the text correctly?” Skinny asked. He pulled a bottle of the Grounded Brigantine’s sparkling wine out of thin air and took a sip before passing it down the line. “Usually there’s something beyond _destiny_ to these things.”

“Do you really think it’s fate?” Alley asked him as he took a swig and passed the bottle down.

“Maybe it is fated and maybe it is you, Babe,” Grant said. “Could be why Gene’s spent so much time in Merrymec this year.”

Babe would’ve really like if that was true, he just couldn’t see it. Gene would’ve said something by now. He shrugged. “Depends on the odds of me getting over here without a good reason, I guess.”

“Considering the long history of Wanderers and Wayfarers? Coincidence is always an option. Taking in your case though, Heffron, I’m not completely sure,” Skinny said.

“So then what’s your answer for Babe’s possible role as a lover of Death?” Lena asked.

Skinny studied Babe long enough for it to feel uncomfortable. He took a long pull of the bottle before her finally answered. 

“I think it’s more a _type_ of soul. Not necessarily just one, singular individual and that’s it. The thought of that? It’s depressing and doesn’t account for free will. So I like to believe it’s the type of soul that matches people up and creates that compatibility.”

“I like that answer,” Babe said. “Takes some of the pressure off if I’m not the predetermined true love. Maybe I’ve even got a shot.”

Skinny gripped Babe’s shoulder. “You’ve got loyalty in you, kid, and a certain sense of empathy. Granted, it’s nothing like what Roe’s got naturally, but then again you’re not a healer. You heal the healer, which means you got a bit more of the cynic in you. You get to stop him before he burns himself out.”

“An extremely worthy role, if one is worthy of Gene Roe,” Lena said. She pressed a cool, cherry-tree scented hand to Babe’s cheek. “I hope it is you. There is joy inside those bones of yours that spreads out to all you meet.”

*************

There was something about the night, and trees, and Babe and Gene. They had so many meetings at night, so many talks as the stars shone overhead, be it in Sledge’s backyard or out here in the land surrounding Roe’s home.

It’d been a long, stressful day. Babe had arrived after tree-talking lessons with Lena to find Renee puttering around Gene’s kitchen and Gene staring off into space. Babe had rushed to him immediately, unused to seeing Gene so unnaturally still. His chest barely rose as he took slow, nearly nonexistent breaths.

Gene had burned hot under Babe’s hands. There were no outward signs that he’d felt the touch. He just kept looking straight on and through Babe.

“How long has he been like this?” he’d asked.

“About an hour or so,” Renee had said. She hadn’t seemed overly concerned as she checked the drying herbs in the kitchen. “He’s communicating with his Reaper side. His body may be with us now, but his spirit is in a world even you can’t pierce, Realm Jumper. Unless your family is more powerful than we assumed.”

The sun had set by the time Gene took a deep breath and let the glamour fall over his face. The image shook for a moment until he turned to meet Babe’s gaze. The glamour slid off and the natural blue-black depths of his eyes remained. 

“Edward,” he had said with a raspy scratch in his voice. “Been there long?”

Babe had almost punched him. Instead he’d let Gene make them all a cup of tea and then ran his mouth off about his lessons until Gene finally started to look more alive. Babe hadn’t been able to sleep, still thinking about that preternatural stillness, and how often Gene had done it. How many times had he been on his own? Had anyone ever tried to pull him back? What happened if he stopped breathing while his soul was mostly separated from his body? Babe was terrified—not of Gene, never of him, but _for_ him. 

And here they were again, both awake when most of the world around them slept, a warm mug of tea passed between them.

“I know it’s not my place,” Babe said. “I just want to let you know that I think you should have someone around the next time you pull that shit. Your grandma’s book made it pretty clear that Reapers aren’t supposed to be solitary creatures, especially when they’re also a Healer.”

“My initial companion was meant for another world and life,” Gene said. “It’s never been a problem before.”

“You were barely breathing,” Babe said. “You were burning up and barely breathing. What would you say to me if I did something like that?”

“Probably pour half my healing potions down your throat,” Gene admitted. His eyes were hooded as he studied the chipped glaze on the mug. “It’s who I am, Edward.”

“It’s not who you always have to be,” Babe said. He tugged the mug from Gene’s hands and waited until he looked up to meet his gaze.

“Drop the glamour,” Babe said.

Gene shook his head. “It’s not up. It never is with you when we’re alone like this.”

Babe took a deep breath, concentrated, and opened his eyes again. There were the soft, deep purple waves of power surrounding Gene’s body, there were his dark, depthless eyes, and the bright, pearlescent sheen to his skin. This was Gene as he stood in between the boundaries of the Living and the Dead, as he was naturally and at all times.

“You’re scary beautiful, you know that, right?” Babe asked. 

Gene looked pleased, completely utterly fucking pleased, before he shook his head and the spell was broken. “Edward…I can’t.”

“But you want to,” Babe said. “And I want to.”

Gene stood up, suddenly agitated and shook his head. “You don’t get it.”

“To be a true Lover of Death requires a permanent place at your side,” Babe said. “I don’t know if we’re quite to never ending vows yet. I still think it’s worth a chance.”

Gene turned to look at him, the purple waves around him pulsed with power. He looked like a man with the weight of the world on him, a mixture of frustration and resignation so clear in his face.

“I will _never_ die, Edward. Do you understand that? Truly understand? My existence does not have a stopping point. Once this vessel of a body finally tires out, I will fall completely to the Reaper side. I will become existence itself, taking the Mantle of Death and leading the lost to re-birth. Whosoever claims their place as my mate will also be bound to that fate. There is no turning back. To become a Lover of Death you must, in the very end, leave this mortal world behind. It is a sacrifice I could—and never will—ask anyone to make.”

“Hey,” Babe said as he stood up and crowded in close to Gene’s space. “Who said you was asking? Get used to it, Gene. I’m going to do what’s best for you, me, and us, whether your self-sacrificing sensibilities like it or not. So you’re just going to have to deal with it. If, you know, you want this too.”

Gene shook his head, his fingers clenched into fists for a moment, and then he was holding on tight to Babe’s shoulders. “I do, I just can’t. You’re so entrenched with your family.”

“Realm Jumper,” Babe said. “I know I’m still working on the full certification thing. Gene, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, on so many levels, but I know that I can feel you even when you’re not around. You make the noise in my head stop. That means something, _this_ means something, and for once I’m not just going to walk away because I don’t think I’m good enough. You said it yourself, you saw the stubbornness in me. Do you really think I’m going to back down because you’re so concerned over what _I_ want. If you really want me to drop it, I will. I will respect that, but if you’re only doing it because you think I don’t want this, you got another fucking thing coming to you.”

“Yes,” Gene said, the word sounding like it was torn from him. “Yes,” he repeated again, voice much more clear this time.

Gene’s hands were cold, but his lips were warm as they slid between Babe’s own. There was a gasp of surprise there, and Babe chuckled.

“Didn’t see that coming did ya?”

“Not an oracle,” Gene murmured sweetly as he captured Babe’s lips again. 

There was a soft, contented hum in the back of Babe’s mind as he gently pushed Gene down into the worn armchair by the back door. It didn’t even shake under their combined weight and Babe had to break off a moment for a soft laugh.

“That’s some sturdy craftsmanship,” he said.

“Romus is a skilled carpenter,” Gene agreed. He cradled Babe’s face in his hands. “Edward, are you certain?”

“Certain ain’t exactly the word I’d use, but I know I want _us_.” He settled his weight over Gene’s lap, smirking at the soft groan that escaped the usual stoic composure. “That okay with you?”


	7. Six

“Hey,” Eugene Sledge said as he tapped the top of Babe’s head, “time to wake up. You’ve been summoned.”

Babe’s arm was asleep, and so was his mind mostly, but he could feel the hum of Gene’s in his head and the warmth of him at his back. They’d fallen asleep by the fire, a whole stack of books laid out next to them from last night’s Realm Jumper lesson, and he could hear Shifty snoring behind them. Babe waited for his vision to clear before he tried to sit up. It was still dark outside.

“Must be something serious if it’s before breakfast,” he whispered as he carefully eased out of Gene’s hold. 

Sledge shrugged. “I guess Haldane couldn’t sleep. Eddie’s waiting for you at the door.” He pressed a travel mug into Babe’s hands. “It’ll wake your mind up,” he promised. 

“You think I need it?” Babe asked.

Sledge’s face went carefully blank as he thought of his answer. “I think a Prince of the Sidhe doesn’t summon a Realm Jumper trainee who has recently taken up with a Reaper for anything less than a grave reason.”

“It’s too early for this,” Babe said.

Sledge tapped on the side of the travel mug. “Drink up, Heffron.”

Eddie didn’t greet him with a smile or a quip. There was something serious in his eyes and Babe realized not all glamours were to hide the more otherworldly aspects of already magical creatures. 

“Either you’re really pissed at me, or you’re really pissed at Haldane, or you’re really pissed at the entire world,” Babe said, breaking the silence as they walked. 

“It’s not anger,” Eddie said. “I just don’t like putting people in danger. Despite what your mythologies might state about Sirens, we don’t wish for death upon others.”

“Shouldn’t you have voiced these concerns before I started this long-ass training?” Babe asked.

_Now_ Eddie looked pissed off as he turned to stare at Babe.

“You’re not a fool, Heffron,” he said. “Don’t insult yourself or me by implying such. Playing coy doesn’t work for you and you’re well aware this meeting is about more than your status as a Realm Jumper.”

“I don’t think Haldane has any right to stick his nose in my personal business,” Babe said.

“Normally I would agree with you,” Eddie said. “You, however, remain in a unique position. Only a stupid man would fail take advantage of such an asset and Aindrea has rarely been such.”  
Eddie led him past the Watch Keeper’s office and into the manor. They went up a stone staircase and past walls of heavy tapestries before they stopped in front of a set of heavy wooden doors. Even in the dark light Babe could see the outline of engravings in the wooden panels. 

“Protection spells,” Eddie explained. He ran his hand over a panel and the whole door pulsed a soothing sea-blue before the door swung open to reveal a large suite of rooms.

“The inner-sanctum,” Babe guessed.

Eddie tilted his head in a way that provided his own answer. He gestured for Babe to follow him down a small hallway to an open door.

“I ask only that you hear him out, no matter how much you’ll want to walk out before he’s done. If this all reaches an end, perhaps my husband will sleep and dream again.”

“So, no pressure then,” Babe said. 

“You’ve performed pretty damn well under those circumstances for a brat of a Wanderer,” Eddie said. “Go on in.”

It wasn’t Andy or Haldane behind the desk full of books and papers. The man in the chair was a complete stranger to Babe; he was Prince Aindrea of the Sidhe with glowing eyes and a shining power coming through his skin. 

“You look like you need about five more hours of sleep,” Babe said as he settled down in a worn chair. “Kind of freaking me out here, bro.”

Prince Aindrea’s eyes were heavy on Babe’s skin as they studied him like a hunter after its prey. 

“I didn’t quite believe Eideard when he said you sought out the position. To be a Lover of Death is meant for only the stoutest of souls. I know Gene claimed you to be stubborn, but even I must wonder if his judgment is not clouded here by the simple newness of you.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Babe said. He straightened up and tried to remind himself of all the reasons why his Ma would smack him if he punched a man in his own home. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

“You are a ward of Ville and my name is on your papers. It is very much my business when it brings both enemies and allies seeking a coup to my very doorstep.” Prince Aindrea waved away Babe’s loud growl. “I don’t doubt your feelings for him, Heffron. I only worry if it’s a cost you truly understand, to stay at his side. A Reaper’s heart is not something to be toyed with because you find yourself infatuated with our kind, and to stay with him will require a lifetime of sacrifices.”

“Yeah, word of advice there, Mr. Royalty. Gene wants this, I want this, we’ve already had this discussion and you have no place in it.”  
“Is it because you think yourself lacking?” Prince Aindrea asked. He stood and walked over to the other side of his desk. He leaned into Babe’s space and met his eyes. “Is it because you think yourself worthless that you seek out his power.”

He grabbed Babe’s arm before Babe had even realized he’d raised it. 

“My apologies,” Prince Aindrea said. He smiled and suddenly Haldane was back in the room with them, the glowing eyes the only hint of what he really was under his skin. “I hate giving that test, but your situation required it.”

“What the fuck?” Babe asked. He wanted to figure out what the hell just happened. He kind of wanted to try to punch Haldane again. He definitely wanted to be back in bed curled into the protective pull of Gene’s warmth.

“I needed an honest reaction. Even though you are a very honest man, even though I’ve never smelled a hint of lie upon you or within you, I still had to be certain you weren’t held in a thrall. Indignant rage is usually the best technique to break it.”

Babe couldn’t exactly argue with the guy’s methods, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once more since I feel like I already had this fucking conversation with your fishy-er half.”

Haldane smiled at the taunt and nodded his head at Babe’s words.

Babe shifted in his seat and took a deep breath. He had a hell of a speech to give.

“Look, I don’t need a great adventure to _find myself_. I’m pretty certain and a-fucking-okay with who I am, Haldane. I _like_ me. I learned to get a healthy opinion of myself years ago when I realized no one outside of the neighborhood would take me serious with a nose like mine and a nickname like Babe. Do you know how many jokes I’ve had to live with about a talking pig from some movie? And if someone tries to call me Ed or Eddie or any bullshit like that it makes my skin crawl.” He waved his hand at Haldane’s smirk. “Eh, fuck you, I like my name. It’s one-hundred times better than Aindrea. Look, all I’m saying is that I’m already comfortable in this skin of mine. If I get to be one of your fancy official Realm Jumpers, whoop-dee-fucking-do. If not, I got a Gene who could use an extra set of hands even if he tries to do it all on his own. If _that_ doesn’t work out—which I really doubt—then I guess I’ll just mosey on home, no skin off my back. Maybe I’ll try to send a Christmas card into the void and see if it gets here in time for the holidays. Regardless, I ain’t your royal subject and you sure as hell don’t get to tell me what to and what not to do, and the last thing I am after is Gene Roe’s honestly pants-shitting-terrifying power.”

“It was merely a suggestion of caution, Mr. Heffron,” Haldane said. “It’s just—you’re stubborn.”

“Yeah, so what?” Babe asked. He didn’t see this as a problem.

Haldane looked like he was trying not to laugh. “It’s a trait that works for and against you. You cast deep roots with those you consider family, and you cling to those roots stubbornly even when the whole universe is telling you to please, come explore it. I worry if you can stand being so torn in two between such strong ties here and such equally as strong ones back to your home. If it’s something that concerns me now, I can guarantee you it’s something that weighs heavily on Roe’s mind.”

“Gene and I already talked about it,” he said.

“And I’m sure you weren’t at all distracted by other matters,” Haldane said. He took an audible sniff. “You not only carry his scent now, it’s starting to morph into a unique one that belongs to both of you.”

“Creep,” Babe muttered.

“Oh, wait until Snafu catches a whiff of you,” he said. His face grew serious again. “I love Gene like one of my own. He’s a Keeper of Souls. That’s the term the elders used centuries ago, and it’s the most apt description I’ve ever heard. True Keepers, the ones most suited to their position, where it as natural to them as breathing is to most of us, are exceptionally rare.”

“And Gene’s one.”

“Quite,” Haldane said. “He heals souls and then guides them when death calls. He’ll eventually take his place guiding them through the journey to be reborn. It is not a task for the weak-willed or weak-minded. Neither is the task of standing at their side.”

“It’s not a task,” Babe said. “It’s not a job. I get that it’s a duty, but don’t make it sound like I’m going to spend the rest of my days shoveling horse shit.”

“Like I said before, my apologies,” Haldane said. He reached into one of the stacks on his desk and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Consider this an official job proposal. It hinges on the success of your first solo jump, but you should at least look over the paperwork now.”

“What the hell is this?” he asked. “Do I need to get some magical lawyer?” Babe skimmed through the first few pages and stopped. This couldn’t be right. “Is this—you want me to be a spy?”

“I prefer the term _ambassador_ ,” Haldane said. “You’re in a unique position, Mr. Heffron. Your strong, unbreakable ties to both our world and your own are very attractive to those of us unfortunate enough to be in power. I only seek to secure you before someone else tries to snatch you up.”

“I don’t understand,” Babe said. 

“Take it home and read it thoroughly,” Haldane said. “I don’t expect an offer right now, or even next week. It’s a possibly dangerous position that requires the weighing of risk and reward. If we’re on the losing side of the inevitable war, they’ll come for your head if it’s loyal to mine. Lucky for you, you truly have Death on your side.”

“War doesn’t seem right in a magical land.”

“War isn’t right anywhere and yet it happens over and over again,” Haldane said. “I don’t want it or court it or wish for it, but I will not be caught unawares. I have too many people who depend on me, too many to protect to let any attempt on the Queen’s life, or her husband’s, or mine or Eideard’s to go unanswered.”

“So much for Neverland,” Babe said. He stood up and caught the first rays of the morning sun through the heavy curtains. “After all this bullshit, the least you could do is offer a guy breakfast.”

“The very least,” Haldane agreed. 

*****************

“This is amazing,” Luz said as he flipped through the contract. “I’m truly impressed. Who drafted this?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Babe asked. “I just took it after a weird meeting.”

“Take it to the Watcher of the Woods,” Lena suggested. She carefully laid a crown of white flowers on Gene’s head. “This one can take you there. No one dares defy him.”

“The Watcher is the most honest and honorable of men,” Luz agreed. He took a sip of his ale. “What do you think, Skinny? We can make a trip of it. I haven’t seen Lip in weeks.”

“You know how Speirs gets if I’m even within a hundred miles of his lair,” Gene said. His leg was pressed against Babe’s own, the warmth seeping into Babe’s own bones. 

“Then we’ll go see Lip and you two can go into the woods,” Luz said. 

Leckie and Sledge both shook their heads in disagreement.

“I almost died when we went into the woods,” Leckie said.

“He finally admits it,” Hoosier said. He leaned over and threw a spark of something at Shelton’s head. “You owe me a meal.”

“Fuck, Leckie,” Shelton yelled over the crowd. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Then they just don’t participate in some fertility festival in a patch of ivy,” Alley said. “It’s simple as that.”

The large group laughed together and Babe felt like an outsider among them as he missed the story. It wasn’t often that happened among this crowd. He still had a lot to learn from them and of them; he was looking forward to it. After all, he apparently had centuries. 

“Edward can see past the ivy’s magic,” Gene said through the end of his laughter. “And I doubt he’ll be drunk on Sidhe wine.”

“Certainly not if you’re going to see the Watcher of the Woods,” Lena agreed.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Babe asked.

“Never could get them to tell me,” Leckie said. 

“That’s because you have drunken orgies in magical ivy,” Luz said.

“It wasn’t an orgy,” Leckie protested. 

“Could have been,” Alley mumbled into his wine, dodging a zap of red light Hoosier sent his way with a grin.

“None of that,” Captain Stella yelled at them as she walked past the long table.

“Who is the Watcher?” Babe asked, trying to get someone, anyone to answer.

“Winters,” Sledge said without any further elaboration. 

“Thanks,” Babe said, since it was technically an answer and apparently the correct one. “And what does Winters do when he’s at home?”

“Watches the woods,” Alley said, very slowly. “Is your translator spell not working?”

***************

Winters apparently did watch the woods from his cabin up on a mountain deep inside a forest that probably housed Ents no matter what Gene told Babe. Winters was tall, pale, and as red-headed as Babe with an air of peace around him. His home smelled pleasantly of warm fires and cinnamon. 

It wasn’t exactly perfect tranquility though. He had a hell of a ward who snored so loud Babe was worried the framed pictures on the cabin’s walls were going to rattle right off. 

“That can’t be a healthy sound,” Babe murmured, trying to only let Gene hear.

“Nix is in perfect health,” Winters promised from the other side of the cabin. “He just drank too much last night.”

“Nix?” Babe asked.

“King Nixon,” Gene explained as he accepted the cup of pungent tea Winters handed him. “He was the Sidhe ruler before Queen Catriona. He only ruled for a week, if I recall correctly.”

“Nix never wanted the throne,” Winters said. “He doesn’t have the temperament for it. Besides, he’s always favored strategy. Everyone preferred Catriona as successor. It’s become a sad trend that the nominated heir by the Elders is usually the least suitable for the role. I do not think it’ll work out so well next time.”

“Yeah, about that,” Babe said. He pulled out the thick bundle that contained the contract. “You must be a really honest man or something because I was told to show you this.”

Winters took the papers and his face immediately shifted from a soft, friendly smile to one of pure concentration. Neither Babe nor Gene talked as he read. The only sounds in the cabin were a clock ticking, the shuffling papers, and the truly horrendous snoring from the other room.

Gene silently sipped his tea while Babe looked around the cabin. There was something very homey about it, not in its atmosphere, but the familiarity of the objects. This cabin could easily be found in any mountain vacation spot back home. Babe leaned forward as he spotted a collection of glass Coke bottles. 

He turned to Gene. “Is he a Wanderer?”

“I am,” Winters said as he looked up from the contract. “I came through many, many years ago. Long before you were born, Heffron. Fell through a hole in the barn and ended up here.”

“Really? Where was that?” Babe asked.

“Lancaster County,” Winters said with a bittersweet smile. “As I said, it was a long time ago.”

Babe frowned. “What is it with this place and redheads? Specifically redheads from Pennsylvania.”

“Sledge isn’t from there,” Gene said. “He doesn’t sound a word like you.”

“No, but I bet if I dug deep into the Wanderer records I’d find some shit,” Babe said.

Gene’s hand was a welcome weight as it rested on Babe’s knee. “You already complain about the studies you’re required to take on. Do you really want to add to that?”

“It’s not a study so much as proving my conspiracy theory,” Babe said. “That makes it fun.”

“Whatever you say, Edward.” Gene smiled into his tea cup, his eyes providing all the taunts his tongue never would. 

Winters handed the papers back to Babe. “I don’t think you can give an honest answer until you’ve returned to your birth home. This job requires you to have a base of operations both here and over there. I suggest you move your main residence on this side out of Eugene Sledge’s house. He’s a good kid with decent protection spells, but if you take this contract you’ll need fortress-level security.”

“Like that on a home of a Reaper?” Gene asked. 

Winters nodded. “I can’t imagine a trespasser would enjoy crossing your borders.”

“That’s one part settled then,” Gene said. 

“What about back home?” Babe asked. “Am I going to bring monsters to my Ma’s doorstep?” He grasped Gene’s hand in his own, let his fingers rest on the pulse at Gene’s wrist in a silent thanks for the invitation to move in.

“There are protected spaces run by Wayfarers and returned Wanderers,” Winters said. “I won’t say you must avoid your family home, because it would be senseless to advise such if you return with any regularity. I do suggest you find a community to build trust and allies. The world you knew will be wholly changed after what you’ve learned here. You’ll start to see beyond the glamours even on the faces back home, faces you may have known your entire life will be different.”

Babe could feel his heart start to hammer in that anxious way that came with fear building in the pit of his stomach. He felt Gene’s power brush through his mind and down his spine and he managed to breathe steadily again.

“This is some powerful shit,” Babe said.

Winters smiled was kind, if sad, as he nodded. “I think you’ll find in time that you are a very powerful man, Mr. Heffron. Your road may be long in getting there, but it is still there.”

 

******************

They slept among the stars on the journey back to Ville. It reminded Babe of those nights outside Sledge’s home, as he got to know Gene in between shared sips of wine and bites of sweet bread, among the dark where it always seemed easier to speak of his fears and of the truth.

“You still don’t have an answer for Haldane,” Gene said. There was no judgment in his words. He pressed a kiss to Babe’s bare shoulder, warming his entire body from that one spot of contact.

Babe could feel Gene’s concern as if it was his own. 

“I can’t yet. I don’t know if I can go back there, back home, see everybody and just leave again. I don’t know if I can do the same here. It’s going to tear me in two either way and…I’m really fucking scared, Gene.”

“I think there is now only one thing you must do,” Gene said. He sat up so he could easily meet Babe’s eyes. “You must return. You’re ready to make the Jump, Skinny knows it, so do you, so do I. Go back to your mother and your city. Then, if it feels right for you, come back here, to us.”

“To you,” Babe promised. 

He remained in awe of this man, and his generosity, and his willingness to do what was best for everyone no matter the amount of pain it would cause his own soul. 

“Here’s home too,” Babe vowed, under the stars, watching the sadness in Gene’s eyes with that small smile on his lips.

*************

“I kind of wish you were going with me,” Babe admitted as Skinny patted his back.

“I’m a busy man, Heffron,” Skinny said. “Maybe next time. Vest has orders not to lose you, and he’s scared of Roe, so you’ve got that on your side.”

There was as large of a crowd to see him off as there had been at his first test. The only difference this time was the actual dragon in the crowd.

“Speirs is here why?” Babe asked.

“Because Lip is here,” Skinny said. He waved to an unassuming man with very kind eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re close to a stream and Eddie’s here to command the waters if Speirs gets flame-happy.”

Babe nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay, so just like all the other tests. Click my heels and think of home.”

“Or rather a very specific spot over there since at this point you think _home_ and you might just end up in Roe’s kitchen instead,” Skinny said. “We both know you can do this, so don’t doubt yourself. Vest is just here to keep you on course. It takes a lot of power to do this so far-removed from either a solstice or an equinox. You’re going to feel weak, don’t freak out, just hold on to the destination you have in mind and your jump will be successful.”

“Got it,” Babe said. He held out his hand to Skinny who took it without hesitation. “Thanks for everything, Sisk.”

“It was genuinely my pleasure,” Skinny said.

Babe nodded and turned to where Gene and Vest stood, Babe’s bag between the two of them on the ground.

“Five minutes,” Vest said as left Babe to have a moment alone with Gene.

“I’ll be back,” Babe said, all his attention on Gene.

Gene shrugged with an uncertain set to his shoulders.

Babe rolled his eyes and pulled his rosary over his head. He let his fingers lingers on the dark green beads before he pressed it into Gene’s hands. “Ma will kill me if I lost that for good. So, I’ve got to come back, right? You’ll keep it safe for me, Gene, won’t you?”

His fingers twisted the crucifix. “Is this not a form of blasphemy?”

“Nah, I think it’s good. I trust your hands more than any others to keep me and mine safe.”

Gene laughed and leaned his forehead against Babe’s own. His fingers were gentle as they cupped the back of Babe’s neck, even as the rosary beads dug into his skin. 

“Don’t get lost in the void,” Gene said. “Eat something as soon as you get home and stay hydrated; you’re going to lose so much power on the jump and I won’t be there to lend you some.”

“Yes, Doc,” Babe said. He kissed the furrow of skin between Gene’s eyebrows. “I’ll be back before you even know it.”

“You better,” Gene threatened.

“Heffron, come on!” Vest called. He visibly blanched not even a second later.

Babe laughed out loud as he saw the fierce glare on Gene’s face. “Don’t make the man shit his pants, Gene. I got to travel with that guy.” He was still laughing even as Gene swallowed the sound with a deep kiss.

*************

Babe probably should have been more philosophical about throwing himself into a void between space and time, but he couldn’t spare any brain power to think like Leckie and quote some famous poet. His mind was filled with his mother’s kitchen, the sound of Bill’s cackling laughter, of Viola’s voice singing _Somewhere Out There_. It was full of the sounds of his streets, the blare of the garbage trucks, the honking of horns, and that sharp piercing sound in the air that could’ve meant a gunshot, a car backfiring, or fireworks. It was full of that smell of the rivers and decay and damp, and old bricks after the rain. 

The portal opened. He could see his street. Vest had a hand on his back and Babe stepped through.

It felt like he was punched, run over by a truck, then a bus, then a cruise ship, and he came to finally as he fell out on rough, cracked pavement gasping for breath.

“I’ve been to nicer places,” Vest said from where he stood.

“Fuck you,” Babe wheezed as he stood.

Someone slapped the back of his head. “Edward Heffron, we do not use that language.” Another slap. “Where the _hell_ have you been?”

Babe almost laughed at the look of fear on Vest’s face, he didn’t want to get slapped again though, so he didn’t openly laugh at anyone. He turned around and tried to smile even though his ears were ringing. “Hi, Ma Guarnere.”

She shook her head at him, tears in her eyes, and pulled him down into a bone-crunching hug. “I’m going to kill you once your mother’s done with you.”

“Yes, Ma,” Babe said. He smiled at the familiar scent of her perfume and clung to her a little bit tighter. 

“Welcome home, you pain in the ass,” she said.


	8. Seven

“How long have I been gone by this side’s timeline?” Babe asked Vest. The trees still had their leaves which either meant he’d been gone for a short time or a little over a year. 

Vest looked at some magical time-telling device he had on his wrist. “A month or two. Not long.”

Babe scoffed as he tightened his hold on his bag. “Clearly you’ve never met my mother. If I’m not there for Sunday dinner she threatens to kill me.”

“From the reception that lady just gave you I have a feeling you’ll be welcomed no matter what,” Vest said.

Babe looked at Ma Guarnere’s retreating back and smiled to himself. His ma was still going to slap him upside his head. He couldn’t wait to see her.

“I’ll give you until midnight, Cinderella,” Vest said. “I got business to do. Don’t get yourself lost or killed, kid. I don’t want Reaper Roe after my soul.”

Vest disappeared in a pop of light before Babe could argue. 

Babe looked around the street, took in a deep breath of all those smells surrounded by all those sounds that once meant safe and sound and all’s alright with the world. All that was left to do was go home. 

His hands and knees shook as he shuffled his feet in front of his family stoop. Heffrons had lived here, in this little patch of South Philly, for generations. Its physical place was deeply tied into what it meant to be a Heffron. Babe never dreamed of finding a place another place that fit him just as well as this stoop and this house, both in the people and the roofs over their heads. He was really glad to be proved wrong. 

There was a Missing Person poster with Babe’s face taped to the glass of the door. Babe reached forward and pulled it down. He patted his pockets, found his keys and unlocked the door. 

The house smelled the same. The same stairs creaked when he stepped on them. The same light flickered as he passed. He could hear the clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen. He paused there, on the threshold, and just let himself stare.

He always thought his mother beautiful, with her auburn hair often piled atop her head. Even now as she stood in front of the sink and took her emotions out on a grimy pan, he still thought her just as beautiful as always.

Babe’s mouth was dry and his throat full. It seemed impossible to form words, much less speak them. He licked his lips. He could taste salt there—tears.

“Hiya, Ma,” he stuttered out.

The pan clattered as she dropped it. She turned to him, dark eyes wide, and shook her head. She covered her mouth with a soapy hand and the suds slid down her arm and started to stain the rolled-up sleeves of her shirt. She stumbled towards him. He dropped his bag and met her halfway.

“Edward—how did you—when did you?” She gathered him close and clutched him to her chest. He could feel her body shaking even as she reached a hand up to smack him on the back of the head. “Don’t you _ever_ do that to us again.”

Babe took a deep breath of her scent, committed it to memory; the lavender perfume she always wore, the peppermints she kept in her pockets, the traces of vanilla from her work at the bakery. All those smells combined once meant _peace_ for him. It still did now really, even if his own personal compass rose had found a different north.

“I love you, Ma,” he murmured into her hair.

****************

Everything was completely different and yet somehow still the same in this old house. The worry and grief was a tangible thing instead of the unspoken happiness that filled each room before, there were more piles of paper spread about the house, and a whole wall devoted to possible sightings of Babe where there used to just be family portraits. And yet, everyone still had their assigned seats around the table, even if a clean, empty plate was kept at Babe’s spot. 

Babe let one of his hands rest on a stack of newspaper clippings and computer print-outs. 

“I’ve been tracking all the John Does,” Ma said. “I had to _know_.”

Babe thought he knew what guilt felt like before that moment—it was nothing compared to the harsh pain burning in his lungs now. His thoughts were never far from his family on the Other Side, but he’d still found a way to be happy over there. He didn’t let himself dwell too often or too much on what was going on back at Ma’s house. He would’ve actually lost his mind as he thought of her, his brothers, sisters, cousins, and the whole fucking neighborhood combing the woods looking for his body. 

“I came back as soon as I could,” he said.

She gripped his chin, small hands as fiercely strong as they’d been his entire life even if she looked so delicate now in the fading afternoon light. “But you can’t stay.”

He shook his head. “No, not for long. I have to go back tonight. There is—I just have to go back.”

“Why?” she asked. 

She wasn’t angry. Babe knew what that sounded like—how her vowels became more pronounced when she got frustrated and her accent sharper as the anger rose. She didn’t even seem hurt. She just needed to know, because she was his Ma, and she had to know he was okay and would stay that way.

He loved her so much. He couldn’t believe he was leaving her and this house and everything again. This time it was willingly though, with the full knowledge of what was both ahead of and behind him. He suddenly had a much better understanding of duty and sacrifice. It would be so easy to be that little boy again who clung to his mother’s legs and let her shout down the world that scared him, but that time had long passed and he was wholly changed.

“I can’t tell you, Ma,” he admitted. He had to give her something plausible though, or she’d just keep at it. “It’s a special job. I suppose you could call it classified. It’s going to take me away a lot; months, maybe even years at a time.”

Maggie Heffron was not the crying type, today being the rare exception, and she’d already shed more tears than usual. She simply nodded now, resigned to the fact. “Will you call?”

He gripped her hands tight. “I can’t, Ma. There’s no real communication allowed. I might be able to get a letter to you guys. Keep Lonnie in a job, I guess.”

“Don’t disrespect the mailman, Babe. Lonnie’s been on the job longer than you’ve been alive.”

Babe laughed—loud and full and perfect when met with his mother’s own. 

They both stopped as they heard a door slam shut and a pair of boots stomp up the stairs.

Ma grinned at Babe. “I honestly expected him sooner.”

“You forgot to account for the past hour he just spent cursing my name,” Babe said.

“True,” Ma admitted with an amused tilt of her head. She patted his cheek. “I’ll go get dinner ready. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Not until tonight,” he swore.

“Where is he?” Bill Guarnere’s voice bellowed through the room as he threw the front door open. “Where the hell is that rotten little bastard?”

Babe took a moment to just revel in the sound of Bill’s voice again—really there growling through his ears and not just a memory in his head telling him to stop being an asshole. 

He turned to see a head full of messy hair, a tight jaw, and eyes wide with unshed tears. Babe tried not to cry, allowed himself a tiny sniffle, and grinned. Christ, had he missed that face. 

“Hey Bill.”

Bill shook his head, cursed, and ran across the room, colliding into him with a hug that took the air out of them both.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you dead,” Bill said even as he clutched Babe closer.

**************

The house was bursting with family, friends, and people he’d probably only said hello to once in his entire lifetime. They all came with well-wishes and some food for the household and a pat on the back, or slap of the head, or pinch of a cheek for Babe. 

Babe still felt an overwhelming amount of guilt, but not even a hint of regret. He never wanted to cause anyone gathered under this roof pain or grief; he would never wish to take back the time he’d experienced on the other side of the Veil, and he was going back. There was no doubt in his mind, no swaying it, even with his niece, Viola, cuddled into his lap, Bill at his side, and his mother’s eyes resting on him. 

Babe couldn’t help that his eyes kept drifting to the window, noting the position of the sun, and then the stars, and the moon. Time was running out and he could feel that now familiar tingle under his skin that meant _home_ start to surge. As epiphanies went, he’d certainly had worst ones. 

It was hard to argue when life, the universe, and everything were calling you back to where you belonged. Not completely belonged of course, but where you were meant to be _now_. 

Babe took a deep breath and smiled.

“I’m glad, you know,” Bill said. He hadn’t let Babe out of his sight yet, told him he had to make up for lost time and store up for the future. 

“What? That I’m not dead,” Babe said. “Yeah, I’m glad to.”

“No, asshole,” Bill said with all the love in his heart. “I’m glad you’ve finally learned to be a little selfish. It’s a good look on you, Babe, whatever—whoever—it is.”

Babe smiled as he thought of Gene, his home, and his quiet, sarcastic humor. 

“He’d love you,” he told Bill. “Gene. He’d really love you. Probably already does from the amount of stories I tell about you.”

Bill grinned. “Always knew you was in love with me. Can’t stop running that trap of yours about the Amazing Bill Guarnere.”

“There are epic poems written about your jaw,” Babe agreed.

“Asshole,” Bill muttered and tapped Babe on the back of the head one more time.

Babe’s eyes drifted to the window again. He looked down when Viola tugged at his arm.

“Are you about to start singing _Somewhere Out There_?” she asked. “You look sad.”

“Baby girl, you’re supposed to be sleeping,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and cuddled her closer.

“Everyone’s too loud,” she whispered.

Babe tried hard not to laugh as he exchanged a look with Bill. There was no defending the level of noise their family could make and it wasn’t worth wasting their breath on trying. 

Viola’s little hands gripped his t-shirt. “I don’t want you to leave,” she confessed.

He carded a hand through her strawberry blond curls. “I’ll be back by summer; Christmas at the latest,” he vowed. 

Viola pouted. “Can’t I come with you?”

Babe tickled here side. “Ma would kill me if you became a Changeling.” He smiled at her laughter. “Maybe when it’s safer. I’ll have to ask and make sure it’s all clear.”

“If she gets to go, so do I,” Bill said.

“Christ,” Babe said. “Look, I’ll see what I can do. I’d have to clear it through at least five different people.”

“Your mom’s going to want to come too,” Bill said.

Babe rested his head on top of Viola’s and wondered if Haldane’s office had a pamphlet on visitor passports or something other bullshit. Maybe he needed to ask the Sirens. Maybe Winters knew. Babe just knew he was completely fucked if he didn’t find a way to make it work. 

 

***************

He was in the kitchen helping to clean the various dinners from the impromptu party, figuring he had quite a few weeks to make up from the chore wheel still up in the kitchen, and listened to the loud, drunken sing-a-long to Billy Joel’s The Piano Man coming from the living room. He’d let his cell phone record it all while he cleaned. He figured someone back home could figure out how to get the video off the phone and on to one of the magical tablet things. 

Magic and technology—he’d never get over it.

“Who is he?” Ma asked as she slipped into the kitchen.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Edward, I raised you. Our family loves with all our hearts when it’s real. The only thing I can ever imagine would make you chose a road away from us is for something as significant as that, so I’ll ask again. Who is he?”

“Gene,” Babe said. He knew there was as smile on his face as he said it. “He’s—amazing. It’s not just infatuation, Ma. I’m not just a kid with a crush, I promise. And I swear he’s not going to break my little heart. He’s just—I’m not going to say he’s everything, because we’re both a hell of a lot more than just each other, but he’s it for me. I just know.”

“Good,” she said. She took a deep breath and for the first time that entire night her shoulders relaxed. “I don’t think I could let you leave if it was for anything less.”

“He ain’t perfect,” Babe admitted. “He’s just perfect for me.”

Ma’s hands shook as she gripped his chin. “I want to meet him,” she said.

“I can’t make any promises, Ma. He’s got a pretty demanding job. We’re talking life and death stuff here.”

“He treats you good, though?”

“I think we’re going to be golden for each other.”

Ma’s eyes dimmed. “Nothing gold can stay, Edward.”

She was the one her first handed him a copy of _The Outsiders_ and didn’t think he was a freak for falling in love with Ponyboy. She gave him his first copy of Robert Frost’s collected poems. She was the one who styled him up like a greaser for Halloween that year. She was his mother and only every wanted the very best for him.

“It can if you’re in the right place,” he said.

 

****************

It was strange to _feel_ what time it was rather than having to look at a clock. Babe could feel the pull dragging him down to the street. He’d said his goodbyes, holding on to his mother’s hand the longest, before leaving them to hopeful sweeter dreams and more peaceful rest. Even though it was close to midnight there were still plenty of cars on the streets and sounds drifting downs from the open windows above him.

He started pacing on the sidewalk as he waited for Vest’s return. He let himself soak up as much of the atmosphere around him as he could. He didn’t know when he’d see these place again. He knew Haldane’s offer—if he took it—would see him crossover the divide multiple times a season, but there was no guarantee he’d be back on these streets any time soon. 

Babe paused in his pacing, eyes caught by the flickering purple glow around one of the trees. He’d never really paid attention to that tree before or really any of the trees in the middle of the sidewalk surrounded by concrete or stone planters. He’d passed this one hundreds, thousands of times before and never noticed any type of energy around it. Now it called to him, beckoned him with that familiar feeling he only associated with Gene.

It was the pale image of someone that appeared to pull out of the tree that made him drop his bag and nearly stumble to the ground.

His great-grandmother had died years ago. Dead-dead. Long since buried. Singing with the Choir Invisible and all that bullshit. It was the first funeral he was allowed to attend. He remembered it vividly, having to stand on an old wooden stool to be tall enough to lean over the casket and give her cheek a final kiss goodbye. 

She now stood before him, hair as pale white and face as lined as he remembered.

“What the hell?” he asked.

“No need for the blasphemy, Edward,” she scolded. She gave a small nod. “I always suspected it would be you of them all. Little imp you were even as an infant.”

“What the fuck?”

“Honestly, Edward, I know you were raised with some manners. Close your mouth. And stop slouching, it’s bad for your posture.”

“You’re dead,” he said as he cautiously approached her. “Like, really dead. I was there when we spread your ashes.”

“Yes, Edward, I am dead and have been for many years. I was there, child. I can assure you I do clearly recall when I took my last breath.”

Babe shook his head. He did it again. Nope, yeah, she was still there. “How?” he asked.

“You’ve nominated yourself as a Lover of Death, have seen things only thought in fairy tales, and _this_ is what you can’t believe.” She laughed. “It’s all connected, Edward. Surely you’ve had time to realize half those imaginary friends you had were actually spirits and sprites reaching out to you.”

Babe barely remembered a quarter of his imaginary friends, but he had to admit it probably wasn’t normal to have more than two or three. He’d had dozens. 

She nodded at him as if she could read his mind. “It was always bound to claim one of you—the Veil that is. The magic itself is wild. It calls out for the ones who share its nature. That’s how it carries people away. It finds those who are lost and brings them home, or to where they need to be, or to where they _should_ have been all along. It’s why I always locked you in the bed with that old skeleton key. I could see it try to call out to you. Lucky so many barriers exist here.”

She kicked the stone planter around the tree and Babe swore he heard a _thud_.

“Never was the plan to keep you away forever, just until _you_ were ready.”

“You’re dead,” Babe felt compelled to point out just one more time. He felt it was only right to make that entirely clear to the both of them.

“I certainly wouldn’t want to be a living spirit on this plane of existence,” she said. She laughed then, the sound both chilling and beautiful. “You’re to be forever bound with a Reaper, Edward. I suggest you learn to become comfortable with ghosts. You never know whose face might meets yours in the ages to come.” She cocked her head to the side. “We don’t have much time. That boy was always so insufferably nosy.”

Cold lips pressed themselves against his forehead as a colder hand caressed his cheek. “That Reaper of yours will never believe he deserves you. He’s one of the kindest of them, the best there is to straddle the lines of life, death, and all the places in between. He’ll need you as you need him. Just strive to remember you’re worthy of each other, always have been and always will be.” 

“Babe?” Bill asked, his voice piercing through the quiet barrier that seemed to surround the tree. His voice sounded tense and scared.

“Be well, darling boy,” Great-grandma whispered to him as she disappeared into the night around them.

“It’s all real isn’t it?” Bill asked. His eyes were trained to the spot where the ghost of Great-Grandma Heffron had faded. “Everything she used to talk about.”

Babe didn’t know what to say and knew he didn’t have time to properly explain it, so he just nodded. 

“Holy shit,” Bill said. He pulled Babe close. “Whatever you’ve gotten involved in I _really_ don’t want to know, do I?”

“Maybe?” Babe asked, voice muffled by Bill’s shirt. “I’ve got a book you can read.”

“A book?” Bill pulled back. “Are you shitting me, Babe?”

Babe shrugged. “It’s like, a handbook? I don’t know if I’m allowed to show you?”

“Yeah, he can see it,” Vest said.

Bill whirled around, fists up and at the ready, and cursed a blue streak.

Vest raised an eyebrow and laughed. “I can see where you get it from, Heffron.” He pulled something from the bag at his feet and chucked it at Bill’s chest. “Read up, human. Just don’t tell anyone.”

“Like anyone would believe him anyway,” Babe said. He pulled Bill close for one last hug. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I promise we’ll get drunk off our asses and I’ll tell you everything I reasonably can.”

“You better,” Bill warned.

Babe froze as he felt the Veil start to form. 

Vest grinned at him. “You’re not half bad at this, kid.” He waved at Bill. “You want to stand far back or get dragged in by accident. It’s only Heffron’s second official time.”

“I love you, you jackass!” Bill yelled at him as he started to run back to house.

“Love you too, Bill!” he replied. Babe took a deep breath and looked at the Veil. He thought of soft smiles and quiet, biting sarcasm, and the smell of healing herbs and took a step towards home.

Gene’s pale fingers were still wrapped around the black wooden beads of Babe’s rosary, just like he’d left him. 

“Told you I’d be back in a blink,” he said, laughing, as Gene pulled him into a long, welcoming kiss.


	9. Epilogue

“Have you figured out how to explain the whole My-Magical-Husband-Is-A-Reaper thing to your mother yet?” 

Babe looked up from his bowl of mystery stew in _The Grounded Brigantine_ to find a curious Robert Leckie looking down on him. He had a ballpoint pen and a notebook in his hands, which could only mean the man was bored and looking for a story. Babe knew a bored Leckie was a dangerous one; if not to himself, than to society at large on both sides of the magical divide. There were two ways he could handle this, the Wild Bill Way or the Gene Roe Way. When it came to Leckie, the Wild Bill Way usually won out.

Babe pushed his bowl to the side and leaned back in his chair. “Why you asking, Leckie? Looking to corner the market on Cross-Divide Romances? Are you that hard-up to be a best seller? Because I gotta tell you, I think writing the expose on The Sidhe Prince and the Siren will get you that acclaim. Or better yet, how about Leckie in Wonderland? Just instead of a White Rabbit you get a wizard named Hoosier.”

“Funny,” Leckie said.

“I thought so,” Babe said. He pushed his bowl at Leckie. “Here, you eat it. I have a meeting with Haldane anyway.”

“Thanks,” Leckie said. He gave his spoonful of stew a suspicious look before putting it back in the bowl. “Actually I take that thanks back. What the hell is this? They trying to poison you for abandoning them for your house in the country?”

“I think Malarkey’s just pissed I didn’t bring him back a present. It wasn’t like I was there long enough to shop.”

“You making another jump soon?” Leckie asked.

Babe honestly didn’t know, though he suspected the meeting today wasn’t just a progress report.  
“I have a feeling I’ll be making one sooner rather than later.”

“Well, if you do can you pick me up some more pens?” Leckie asked. “They can be plain old ballpoints from Wal-Mart, I honestly don’t care. I can’t do the quill and ink thing here. Even I’m not pretentious enough for that bullshit.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Babe promised. He’d seen the black market trade over here for writing materials from their side and new the standard price for a shitty ballpoint pen was ridiculous.

Eddie was waiting for Babe at the manor’s steps. Babe paused a moment to see past the glamour he wore, taking in the extensive magical markings and tattoos on his body. 

“It’s a shame you need to cover all that up,” Babe said.

Eddie shrugged, smile far too bright as he said, “Not all the time.” He pushed open the door and gestured to the main staircase. “He’s in his personal office.”

“No escort this time?” Babe asked.

“You’ve already passed the required tests,” Eddie said. “Tell him he has an hour.”

“Or what?” Babe asked.

“Or he’s eating and sleeping alone for the next thee days,” Eddie said. 

“Anniversary?” Babe asked.

“Something like that,” Eddie said. He pointed to the stairs. “Go on.”

Babe tried not to think that it sounded ominous when the door closed behind him, but it made a loud, groaning sound and left him in the dark of the entrance hall. He’d never been in this part of the house by himself and he had no real desire to linger. The light colored flames burning in various lamps and pedestals as he climbed the stairs reminded him that he wasn’t really alone. There were all kinds of spirits watching him here and that thought only creeped him out a little now. He was kind of proud of the amount of progress he was making there. 

The intricately carved wooden doors of Haldane’s office opened before Babe could touch them. Haldane stood behind them with a small smile on his face.

“Thought it was magic?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t be the first time yours doors opened or closed on their own,” Babe said. He tried not to stare at Haldane—the man was wearing something that could probably be called shorts. It felt wrong to see a Sidhe prince’s bare ankles.

“We’re sailing out to visit Eideard’s sister,” Haldane said. 

“Family reunion? Nice,” Babe said. “So, I figure this isn’t just a social call.”

“No,” Haldane admitted. He picked up a stack of papers from a side table. “Vest gave us a detailed review about your friend, a Mr. Guar—ah—that’s a name.”

“Guarnere,” Babe helpfully supplied.

“Yes,” Haldane said. “He seems a prime candidate for our ambassador positon. We need more homegrown support on that side and his love and loyalty to you is of no question. I’d like to offer him a contract similar to your own. I provided some names for legal consultants over there. I believe they’re all relatively close to your hometown. A day’s travel most.”

Babe didn’t know if Haldane meant by foot, horse, air, or magic carpet, so he just kept his mouth shut. “Thanks, Haldane. Does this mean I’m set to go back out soon?”

“Soon for them, not for us. The next solstice, I believe. It’ll be easier to travel without complications. I suppose Skinny may arrange for you to make some smaller jumps when he’s done negotiating with the wolf clans.”

Babe couldn’t have heard that right. “Did you say wolf _clans_?” Babe knew Renee was one, and came from a huge family, but he didn't realize there was an entire political system out there.

“Yes,” Haldane said without further explanation. He held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure to see your progress, Mr. Heffron. Our side has gained and will continue to gain much from your presence.”

“Right back at ya,” Babe said as he took Haldane’s hand.

**************

Babe woke up to a cold bed and the sound of Renee’s laughter coming from the kitchen. He rubbed a hand over his face and tried to will the pounding in his head to go down. He’d pushed himself too hard on the last mission. He’d let Varro, that damn wolf’s mate, get them lost in the woods _again_ , this time somewhere in Maine in the middle of fucking December. It’d taken a bunch of small jumps to get to their final stopping point. Babe didn’t even have time to stop and replenish his reserves to get back home. Gene had been fucking furious when Babe had finally stumbled through the portal and damn near collapsed. Varro might’ve actually gotten his ass cursed this time considering the amount of languages Gene had used to make his displeasure known. 

Luckily Babe had only got a lecture and some broth shoved at him before he was put to bed for—he checked the window—almost a day. 

“Look who decided to join the living world again,” Gene said.

“Are you allowed to make jokes like that?” Babe asked. He frowned at how rough his voice sounded. “Fuck,” he croaked.

Gene handed him a cup of warm tea. Babe could smell the honey—or what passed for honey here—in it and smiled in thanks.

“You’re far too good to me, you know,” he said.

Gene carefully shrugged. “Just glad you didn’t die. You pushed yourself too hard this time.”

“Varro’s concentration was shot,” Babe explained. “It seemed like less of a risk to have me take point.”

“Varro shouldn’t even be attempting jumps with a pregnant spouse who is about to declare war against a rival pack,” Gene said.

“Now you know why we hurried back home,” Babe said. “I had to get the letter to the wolf pack up near Boston. I’m one of the few people trusted enough to do it and the only one their enemies wouldn’t dare to touch.”

“Because of me,” Gene said.

Babe grinned as he put his cup to the side. He reached out and tugged Gene closer until he settled on his lap. He carefully pressed a whole trail of soft kisses from the jut of Gene’s chin straight up to his hairline.

“You’re completely terrifying,” Babe said. “It’s that frown of yours, and then you get that voice before it’s followed by the worst of all—the pointing.”

Gene’s small smile made Babe feel better than any healing tea.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Babe said. 

“Thank you,” Gene said. He kissed the soft skin behind Babe’s ear. “Don’t do it again.”

They both knew it was a promise Babe couldn’t really make or keep, not with what was brewing on the horizon. He’d try though, good lord would he try.

“So I think your friend Casper might be coming to stay with us?” 

“Casper?” Gene asked.

“The friendly ghost,” Babe said.

Gene laughed. “Auctus? Yes, I think it’s about time he’s returned. I’m eager to see Duro again. I’ve only met his wolf.”

Babe frowned. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“I’m sure Robert will ask for the tale. It’s quite the high romance worthy of his novels.”

Babe rolled his eyes and rested his forehead against Gene’s own. He breathed in that familiar scent, felt the connection between them pulse as his headache faded away, and pulled Gene in closer.

“I’m so happy to be home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so very sorry for how long it took me to update/finish this fic. Thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, and given support during the long process of it.


End file.
